Glass
by CryingCarnations
Summary: Roxanne Curtis is one of the few survivors of the Ishvalan War of Extermination. Under the wing of Roy Mustang, she does what she can to forget the loss of her family and everyone she grew up with. Unable to be trusted on her own, Mustang, as her superior, orders her to cohabitate with the Elrics. Updates every 2 weeks (ish).
1. Chapter 1

"I left without my sunglasses. I'm sorry, okay? How many times are you going to make me apologize to you?" Roxanne groaned, sinking down into the hospital bed and turning to face away from the looming figure scolding her.

The little Ishvalan didn't find it much of an issue. It was _only_ a few stab wounds! She'd suffered much worse. That clunky prosthetic plugged into the stump left of her arm was evidence enough of that. Colonel Mustang's scolding went in one ear and out the other as Roxanne slipped her new pair of sunglasses on, hiding her bright crimson eyes away from the world.

As long as it had been since the war, you'd think people would be over their hatred of Ishvalans. They're all dead, save for a few isolated settlements and, of course, her. The hatred seemed a little _excessive_ at this point. She'd only gone to get some groceries. She planned on stealing said groceries, sure. But she hadn't touched a thing!

Some maniac had come at her, shrieking a story about his son being killed in the conflict and spitting expletives at her before drawing a knife on her. How would it look for a member of the military to attack a civilian in the street? She tried her best to de-escalate the situation. Of course, that hadn't worked out as she planned, and now she was here with a few new scars for her collection.

"And one other thing, I can't handle you being this reckless when I'm supposed to be responsible for you!"

Roxanne vaguely tuned in to hear the tail end of Roy's argument. "You're right, Roy. I'll try to be more careful next time, alright?" She peered over her shoulder, flashing a weak smile to him. In no official terms, he was her guardian.

She had run away from her aunt and uncle's house. Izumi Curtis, being the stern woman that she was, didn't go searching for her. She had figured that if she was so mature as to run away, she'd be able to take care of herself or come back crying. The factor she didn't take into account was Roxanne's stubbornness, which is exactly why the two hadn't seen each other in at least three years.

Sickness and mental turmoil were the only memories she could dredge up from these past few years. At least one of those was her fault. She hadn't been careful enough in her planning, she hadn't thought _anything_ through. And now she was lying directly to the one person that had been caring for her for those years.

She wouldn't dare tell Roy that she'd lost her place in the military barracks. The spots for females were so incredibly limited. To this day, she was still kicking herself for that. Roy had been the only reason she'd gotten a position at the military in the first place. He took her under his wing and did anything he could to help her squirm up the ranks to sergeant. Her work mainly consisted of wandering around Amestris and inspecting places for this and that. It was a boring job, but it put food on the table.

Or it _would,_ if Roxanne wasn't constantly shelling out money to keep a crummy hotel room to stay in. She almost preferred when she lived on the streets. At least then her money could be mostly going to food instead of her sticky fingers helping food find its way to her mouth.

Roy was talking again. She'd completely blanked out, more absorbed in her thoughts than anything he'd be saying to her.

"I found out that you're not living in the barracks anymore."

Those words quickly drew her attention. She rolled over and pulled herself up into a seated position, staring over to Roy in silence as she waited for further scolding.

"Wh… What about it? I'm fine," Roxanne quickly became defensive. What right did he have to tell her how to live, anyways? He wasn't her dad.

The older man pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Curtis, you can't just live on the streets—"

"I'm _not!_ "

Roy let out a heavy sigh, deciding to believe her. His words were going to be the same either way. "I've talked with another military member of the same age as you. Him and his brother, they're good kids. They've got a little permanent residence in the city. You can't keep stealing like you are. And I know you are because storeowners reported it when we were investigating the attack," He lowered himself to eye level with Roxanne as he continued chewing her out, "Once you're out of here, I expect you to report to my office so I can have you escorted. I'm not accepting any complaints on this."

The Ishvalan groaned in frustration, rolling her eyes as she returned to facing away from her superior. He was so irritating when he was like this. Acting like her dad, acting like he could boss her around. It pissed her off. "Whatever, _Colonel Mustang._ " She knowingly put heavy emphasis on the formal title. It always irritated him, even if just slightly.

"Do as the doctors tell you. I'm leaving two officers stationed at your door to make sure you don't leave."

With that cold remark, Roy was gone, his shadow, Hawkeye, following him.

Roxanne sank into the uncomfortable hospital bed, almost happy to have the spacious thing to herself. The bed in her hotel room was a lumpy, tiny nightmare. It was impossible to get comfortable in and if you got too comfortable, you fell out.

Her wounds stung with every slight movement. She resigned to silent stillness, waiting in the bed for sleep to eventually overtake her and bring some relief. She was fine sleeping in the hospital like this as long as she had to. The beeping of the machines and the chattering between doctors and nurses was nothing compared to the filthy sounds she'd have to hear at that cheap hotel.

The hums of machinery lulled her to sleep, her doing the best of her abilities to ignore the pain that she was in. And yet, this seemed like it was destined to be the most pleasant sleep of her life. Save for death, of course.

* * *

Burning.

It's all burning.

Roxanne held her little sister close to her as they watched everything they'd ever known go up in flames. Soldiers shot at corpses, their life waters already staining the sand crimson beneath them.

They had to know they were already dead, right? Did they hate Ishvalans that much? Nonsense. It was just some misunderstanding. It had to be.

 _"Please! No!"_

A woman's cries and shrieks pierced through the roar of crackling flames. The two children watched as the woman had her baby viciously torn from her arms.

Executed.

Both of them.

The sobs of mother and child both silenced in an instant.

Wallowed deep inside the small crevice between two buildings, the terrified children tried to stay silent. They could only wiggle further into their small hiding space in hopes of concealing themselves in shadow.

"Sissy, I wanna go home…"

Roxanne slapped a hand over her sister's mouth, harshly silencing her. It was all she could do to try and keep them safe.

She swallowed hard, her throat dry from the hot desert air and the stress of the situation. Julia writhed and sniffled, trying to pry her sister's hand from her mouth. Bless her heart; Julia just didn't understand. She didn't understand the immediate danger they were in.

Roxanne carefully scouted the area around them as they slowly worked through the gap to the other side. After enough careful consideration, she jerked her sister out of the gap with her and took off in a sprint.

They just had to get home. Home with Mom and Dad. Things would be okay if they could just get home. They'd be protected.

Barefoot and struggling through the sinking sand, all they could do was sob and carry on. Slipping and sliding on dunes, it was a struggle to even stay upright. But they had to get home. They just had to get home.

The destruction and death were dangerously close to their untouched shack. Huffing and puffing, the girls carried themselves to the door on shaky legs.

 _"You're not touching her! She wasn't part of the rebellion!"_

Their sun-kissed skin paled at the voice. Their father. He'd never sounded that angry in his life. And their mother was crying.

Roxanne carefully pulled the door open and the two children peeked into the shack.

That elegant, long-haired Ishvalan they'd always looked up to as a beacon of strength lay in a sniffling heap behind their father. The familiar blue of an Amestrian soldier stood before them. With the gleam of a gun barrel pressed into their father's forehead.

Time slowed to a painstaking crawl. Click. Boom. And their father was sprawled in the floor, a bloody mess. Their mother was sobbing and holding her husband's head in her lap, stroking his bloody locks as her cries continued.

Click.

Boom.

* * *

 _"Just wake up!"_

Roxanne was startled out of her sleep, unfamiliar hands on her body.

Relief crossed the round face of the nurse in front of her and she was released, flopping against the bed in a confused stupor. "I was sleeping…" she complained, her stumpy flesh arm giving a bit of movement to an unresponsive prosthetic. That's troubling.

"You were having night terrors, Ms. Curtis. We thought someone was in here attacking you!" The nurse let out a hearty, relieved laugh as she spoke, her shoulders slouching as she eased up.

With her prosthetic not responding, Roxanne lifted her other arm to smear away tears. She refused to appear so weak. "I'm fine, you're dismissed." She didn't intend to sound so bitchy. Although, people should expect it. From the outside perspective, at least, she was a stern soldier that didn't let sentimentality get in the way of things.

Was it just a surprise to see a girl her age already acting like that? She hadn't been in the military an awful long time, she supposed. But with a rank of sergeant one would assume she's seen enough. Nonetheless, the nurse couldn't help but raise her brows before she retreated from the room.

Solitude again.

Alone, her thoughts returned to the motionless prosthetic. It was probably busted _again._ When was the last time it was in a decent state of repair, anyway? She couldn't do much but prod at the metal surface in hopes it would somehow begin normal function again. No luck.

Mechanic visit? Food was barely in the budget, machinery didn't have a cent to spare.

She scowled as the thought of living with some asshole that Roy decided on. Really? He was _forcing_ her to live with someone? Who did he think he was, anyways?  
 _'My superior,'_ her mind graciously answered the question for her as she stifled a small laugh. Jeez, he needed to piss off sometimes.

After a few uncomfortable half-stretches, Roxanne was up and out of bed against the advice she'd been given by medical staff. She wasn't going to just laze around like that. Ishvalans are resilient, damnit. She lost her entire family and an arm in one night, what's a few stab wounds?

The dead weight of her useless prosthetic definitely slowed her down a bit. She tottered from her hospital room, her hand gently cupping the wrist of her prosthetic to hold it up. She was immediately stopped at the entrance by—what else—two of Roy's little guard dogs.

"You're not allowed to leave your room."

"I need to make a call. I'm your superior, aren't I?" Roxanne boldly spat in return, having a little too much confidence for someone of her age and stature.

"Then we'll accompany you."

They weren't going to budge. With a begrudging eye roll, she silently accepted this offer as she made her way off to the pay phones. Her hand burrowed down in her pocket for a few spare coins, sliding them in.

After a bit of _gentle_ argument with the operator, she was connected directly to Roy's office.

 _"What do you wa—"_

"Hey, don't get snappy. That's how you start a fire," Roxanne teased with a slight smile, "So, Roy. I think I'm gonna be in here a little longer than I thought. I'd love to just walk out right now but I might have to get a mechanic in here to see about my arm. It's not budging. Do you think you could find some time in your precious schedule to go get my belongings from that shitty hotel I'm in and take this month's payments from them? You're making me live somewhere else, anyways, so they don't get to have my money for another month."

 _"Give me the address and I'll have officers go retrieve your things."_

"Hey, no. I want you to do it yourself. I don't trust anyone else in the military not to steal from me."

There was a long silence on the other end before the colonel sighed.

 _"Fine."_

"Thanks, Roy," she smiled, leaning her head into the wall beside the phone, "You're the best." And with that, their exchange ended.

Now the hard part began—finding a mechanic that would be willing to take the trip from Rush Valley to Central City to work on some likely not-paying Ishvalan sergeant. It's not like she could finesse the military into paying for it. That kind of thing was reserved for higher-ups and people that actually mattered.

"Pen and paper," she snapped her fingers at one of the subordinates, holding her hand out and patiently waiting for her request to be filled. _Pap._ The paper pad was laid on the small desk in front of her and a pen was set into her hand. Now to get to work.

She wrote down as many names and phone numbers as she could remember from her days of searching out an automail mechanic. She'd become somewhat proficient at writing with her left hand since the accident. She was young enough that re-learning was possible, although difficult.

* * *

"Right. Right. I understand… Oh, you do? Could I have a name and number?... Uh huh. Uh huh. Ah, I already called him. He said he wouldn't be willing to come out for repairs, either. Anyone else you have in mind? Oh. I understand. Have a good day."

Roxanne took a deep breath as she calmly set the phone on its hook and stared at the paper full of names and numbers crossed out. Everyone _knew_ someone willing to do the free repair but didn't want to do it themselves.  
"Damnit damnit damnit!" Her fist tensed around the phone, lifting and slamming it into the receiver again and again until she regained her composure. "One of you get a nurse to get me a sling for this busted arm, will ya?"

She couldn't help but bark orders at those shadows. Their presence was unnecessary so they might as well make themselves useful. With a salute, one of them was off as Roxanne staggered up to her feet.

"Forgive me for speaking out of line, Sergeant, but I don't think you should be walking around much with your current injuries," the remaining soldier spoke softly, his voice faintly laced with concern.

"I lost my arm in the war. I'll live with a few papercuts like this," she waved him off, steadying herself against the wall to her side as she waited on the sling to take the burden of her prosthetic's weight away.

After trying and failing to ignore small, sharp pains in her stomach, she relented to give her stomach her attention. She peeled up her shirt a bit, faintly surprised by frayed stitches and blood seeping out. She really shouldn't have been. She was told to stay on strict bedrest and not move around, but here she was.

The edges of her vision blurred. She was completely exhausted, and the loss of blood only served to remind her of it. She scooped up the wrist of her prosthetic, thudding off to her room to have a comfortable place to collapse.

Her watchdog could only follow, afraid of acting out of line due to the spitfire temper Roxanne was known for. His shoulders eased as his fellow officer returned with a nurse and a sling just as the sergeant was stepping into her room.

Quickly, she was planted on the edge of the bed and receiving a child-like scolding. Finger-wagging included. She was given a small dose of pain medication and the nurse went to cleaning up her wounds. She was restitched, bandaged, and her prosthetic was tossed into its sling.

She sank into her bed, relieved to get another dose of pain medicine that permitted her to relax. Roy was probably going to hear about that one. She couldn't be bothered, getting sucked up by a warm, inviting, medicated slumber.

* * *

"Stay quiet, Julia,"

Roxanne was having trouble calming her own erratic breath. They had been struggling to keep themselves hidden in the hollow remains of their village. The strong, metallic scent lingering in the air was nauseating.

An Amestrian surveyor was ensuring the death of every Ishvalan in the area. He and his crew of soldiers systematically burst into each house, taking count of corpses and setting an explosive charge to be detonated once the area was deemed clear.

If someone survived by some slim margin, they wouldn't have anywhere to return to.

Growing up in that barren desert allowed Roxanne and Julia to know their ways of silently maneuvering. It was only due to that that they managed to avoid the survey crew every step of the way.

As cruel as she felt, Roxanne had to repeatedly silence her sister's crying. Julia couldn't know any better. She was too young to even be enrolled in school. How was she expected to understand war and genocide?

They were huddled in a closet, Roxanne's hands clasped tightly over Julia's little mouth to keep her silent as she tried her best to listen in on the Amestrians.

 _"Sector one is clear. 35 confirmed dead."_

Their voices were muffled but hardly difficult to understand.

 _"Sector two is clear."_

 _"Sector three is clear."_

It was painful listening to them rack up the kill count.

 _"Clear the area. Explosive charges are set."_

Her breath caught in her throat.

Explosives.

"Julia, run."

"What?"


	2. Chapter 2

So much for a peaceful sleep.

Roxanne didn't have the slightest idea of how much time had passed between her falling asleep and now. It could've been a month for all she knew.

Laying there, she was breathing heavily and completely soaked with her own sweat.

The pain from those torn stitches was radiating from her stomach and growing with each pulse of her heart. Which was pounding pretty fast at this point.

She wanted to vomit.

She smudged tears from her eyes and went to sit up straight to get a few full breaths. Clink. Her sight drifted to her prosthetic handcuffed to the side of the bed. Likely Roy's doing.

Her suspicions were confirmed by some boxes labelled with her name tucked away in the corner of the room. He'd brought her things by and had her handcuffed but couldn't be bothered with a "hello." Typical Roy. She glanced to the table beside her, spotting an envelope that also bore her name. After a small struggle, she grasped it and pulled it close to peek inside. _Choke_.

"One of you bring a phone in here," she groggily gave her commands to the dogs stationed outside her room, hearing the thuds of one's boots fade off and return. It was almost amusing to Roxanne to watch him fumble and struggle to find a phone line to plug it into and situate it. It couldn't have been as hard as he was making it.

"You're dismissed," she punctuated her sentence with a wave of her hand as she picked up the phone. She had to cradle it between her shoulder and head so she could use her only functional hand to dial.

"Hi, hi. Yes this is the Sergeant that called before about a repair job. I've come into some funds. How does—two, three, four, four-fifty—how does 45,000 cenz sound? Amazing. Can you catch the soonest train? Fantastic! I'll have an officer waiting at the train station when that one arrives to escort you. No, no, no. Thank _you._ "

She heaved a sigh of relief as she hung the phone up and sank into her bed once more. Roy had retrieved her rent money but tossed a few thousand more cenz in with it. She took that as his form of apology for getting on her nerves. She'd have to make sure he knew she wasn't mad at him when they talked next time.

Roy was too sweet to her sometimes. She was just some "dirty sand-dweller," anyways. He'd fought tooth and nail to get her into the military, too. They weren't very keen on accepting an Ishvalan into their ranks at the time, especially one who had experienced the conflict as a child. Some story about her being evacuated before the mass murder was all it took to get her accepted into ranks.

It wasn't a surprise she didn't like thinking about the conflict. Although she had never seen it, she'd heard plenty of times that Roy had killed more than anyone.

She wanted to confirm what she'd heard, but she just couldn't bring it up with him. She perceived some deep sadness always just under the surface when Roy spoke to her. Was his care for her a repentance for the hundreds he killed?

Shaking those thoughts away, her focus was directed back to getting better. Or at least getting her arm in order and leaving with some bandages and a bottle of painkillers. Speaking of her arm, being weighed down to the bed with it was an absolute pain.

"I have to use the bathroom," She called out, more than a little frustrated at having to get someone's permission to go.

"We're under orders to keep you in bed. Use the bedpan."  
That answer hit the angriest, wire-thin nerve in her body.

She lurched up from the bed, not minding her lacerations that threatened to burst from the pressure on them.

 _'Just stay in bed, little girl. Your injuries are too severe for you to be getting up.'_

With hot, heavy breaths, she gave a hard jerk to her prosthetic, only rattling the handrail it was fastened to and shooting a white-hot pain up her side.

 _'Your sister didn't survive the impact.'_

' _Stay down or we'll have to restrain you.'_

Another jerk, another huff escaping as the wood started splintering from the force.

 _'I can't believe you Ishvalans making a mess of things and expecting us to clean it all up.'_

Finally, the metal tore through the wooden handrail and left her arm free. Her anger was boiling over.

"I am a member of the military. I am your _superior._ How _dare_ you talk down to me like some hurt little kid that can't take care of themselves?" Roxanne's voice always boomed when she was upset like this.

It would've been amusing to see the two officers cowering had she not been so caught up in her thoughts. This wasn't Ishval and she wasn't a child anymore. She wasn't going to be confined to a bed for "her own good" and she wasn't going to use a fucking _bedpan!_

"You're right, Sergeant. I guess my orders were a bit _too_ strict, huh?"

It was like a blacksmith dunking his work into water.

"How long have you been here?!" Roxanne's voice cracked a bit as she pointed an accusatory finger at Roy, "You didn't even pop in to say 'Hi' when I asked for a phone!" Her cheeks flushed with the shame of a child throwing a tantrum as she avoided eye contact with the looming figure.

"Actually, I was just coming to see how you were doing. I told one of the nurses to call me once you were up again." Roy crossed his arms over his chest, a silent expression of disappointment in her for blowing her top like that.

While Roxanne had opened up to Roy quite a bit, he knew there was a lot that he didn't know. He knew that she was half Ishvalan and her father was an Amestrian scientist that fell in love with an Ishvalan woman while studying in the area. He knew that she had a younger sister at one point. He knew she lost her arm at some point in the conflict. He knew she was littered with scars on one half of her body and tattoos on the other.

What he didn't know was what horrors she had to have seen. Hearing the cries and wails in her sleep, it was safe to assume she'd seen the worst. As had he. The difference was that he _caused_ the carnage that he saw.

In the end, he couldn't be completely disappointed in her for having an outburst. He'd seen her hospital records from childhood at some point and knew she had been confined to a hospital bed for an entire week after losing her arm. Doped up on painkillers and restrained to stop her from hurting herself or hospital staff.

Seeing her now, huffing and heaving with a few splinters of the bed's railing jammed into the handcuffs still around her wrist. He had to assume that experience was terrible enough to dredge up a good amount of adrenaline the second she thought it was happening again.

His expression softened as he saw Roxanne's remorseful body language. He could see she was disappointed in herself, too.

"I'll get a nurse to help you with the bathroom. You need to be very careful standing and sitting with your wounds like they are," he explained with a wave of his hand to one of the subordinates standing by.

Roxanne wasn't going to argue with him, watching the officer wander off to find a nurse. "Thanks, Roy. Thanks for the cenz, too." She stretched her arm out to give a soft grip to his shoulder, flashing the faintest little reassuring smile, "I've got a mechanic on his way right now from Rush Valley. I was about to call and ask you to station an officer at the train station to provide transport."

"I'll send for one right away." He visibly relaxed at the hand on his shoulder. His larger, gloved hand cupped over hers with a gentle squeeze—only for a brief second—before they both broke the contact. It was a small sign of affection between the two. They had plenty of those.

Roxanne would mend a small tear in Roy's gloves, he would order her a new set of boots when she walked hers smooth. She would bring him coffee only to find he had brought coffee for her as well. She kept a sewing kit in her pockets and he kept a spare set of sunglasses in his.

Even now, he was here to ensure her well-being after she'd torn her stitches. Yet neither one of them would readily acknowledge how much they cared for one another.

"You should bring that kid by that you're going to make me live with," Roxanne cracked a smile, "I'm going to be laid up for a couple days after my repairs, most likely." They were back to teasing and getting on each other's nerves.

"I just might do that. I'll see if I can pry him away from his research long enough to drop in. He's your superior, so treat him with a little respect."

"Superior?" She laughed, "He's my age, isn't he? What rank is he, anyways?"

"Major."

 _Spit._ "No way someone my age is a major!"

"He's a state alchemist."

There was a long silence between the two.

The soft ticking of a clock.

"…Get out."

"Roxanne, li—"

"Roy, please leave." She was on the edge of tears, her body stiff from efforts to suppress her shaking. She could be comfortable with Roy and trust him. But that didn't go for a single other state alchemist. The way so many of them seemed proud of their kills during the war only put her head right back in Ishval.

Sand.

Blood.

That tiny cold hand encased in hers before she lost it.

The mushy contents of a head splattered on a wall.

 _Hic._ She wasn't even aware of her childish actions, having stepped forward to hide her face against his uniform as tears refused to stay behind their barriers. She dug her nails into the fabric, her trembling hand refusing to relax its grip on him.

Roy parted his lips, about to start running his mouth to mend the situation. He caught himself in the act, quickly deciding that wasn't the best course of action. As much as he hated to betray his cocky, uncaring exterior, he had to comfort her. He wrapped his arms around her in a suffocating hold, faintly recalling a conversation they'd had after a similar episode.

' _I don't know, I just feel safe like that. When I start thinking about Ishval again, I just freak out. It's like I can't breathe or think or anything. Don't go soft and start hugging me all the time, though.'_

It honestly was calming to her to be held that tightly. She started slowly regaining her composure, Roy taking that as a chance to run his mouth.

"This kid was never in the war. He's only in the military for research opportunities. I promise you that I would never force you to live with one of those self-righteous bastards that brags about the war. You should know me better than that by now."

"I-I know, I know, b-but—"

"Aw, come on. I thought you were a member of the military. My _superior,_ " He flashed the tiniest smirk as he repeated her little outburst from earlier.

"Oh, shut up…" Roxanne couldn't help but crack a smile. He was so stupid sometimes. "I'll give the twerp a chance, okay? But I'm not living with him if he makes me uncomfortable."

"I guess it's a deal, General Curtis."

"I said shut up!" Her face flushed as she squirmed out of the intimate space they had occupied, practically pouting as she smeared her tears away. "You know, you can't always make jokes when I'm upset and expect that to help."

"Helped this time, didn't it?"

"Just get out of my room and go get officers waiting for my mechanic," she spoke, her finger extended towards the door in an authoritative point.

"Yes ma'am~" he sang out with a smile as Roxanne went to trying to shove him out the door with her shoulder, "I'll come by tomorrow with the kid, alright? Until then, try not to tear out any more stitches or destroy hospital property."

"No promises. Behave and do your paperwork."

"No promises."

Roxanne shook her head, returning to the hospital bed and picking up little splinters of the destroyed hand rail.

"You're not supposed to be up!" the nurse fumed as she entered the room, respectfully waiting for Roxanne and Roy to finish their…discussion? before she entered, "And what have you done to this bed! You'll have to pay for it, you know!"

"No I won't." She didn't give the nurse much time to argue with her, propping her useless prosthetic up with her knee. The palm was a work of love. It had an interchangeable metal disk directly in the center bearing a generic transmutation circle. She'd had a few more at one point but they were misplaced, likely among her belongings.

Anyhow, with her automail propped up, she was able to bring her palms together before clapping them down against the splintered and ruined bedrail. The fact that she wasn't a state alchemist always seemed to shock people when she whipped out alchemy. The fact of the matter is that she didn't _want_ to be among the ranks of the human weapons that practically eradicated her race.

Soft blue light and sparks flashed as the railing was repaired to—more or less—the same state it had been in before her outburst. "Just your friendly neighborhood non-state alchemist." She rubbed the back of her head with a smile, "Do you think you could help me to the bathroom now? I didn't think Roy would talk my ear off for that long."

The nurse watched with wonder as the sergeant did her alchemy, giving a few enthusiastic nods to her request and helping her up from the bed. "That's so amazing! I don't know how any of you do that alchemy stuff."

Roxanne tuned out the nurse's gushing, just focused on getting to the bathroom and relieving herself _without_ the use of a bedpan. She didn't bother waving the nurse off for privacy. The Ishvalan ideal of privacy was very different from the normal Amestrian ideal. Plopping down on the toilet seat, she was content to answer nature's call regardless of the presence of another human.

Maybe that was odd. It was unimaginable that people that considered a bedpan acceptable would be uncomfortable with a patient using a toilet nearby. Still, she finished with a hearty sigh of relief and raised herself up.

With some poorly coordinated and wobbly steps, Roxanne was back to resting in her bed.

"You're getting some more painkillers. I honestly don't think you realize the severity of your injuries. You're lucky he didn't hit any organs. Just barely missed your liver."

"Woohoo, painkillers!" The sergeant grinned, much to the nurse's frustration. It was honestly just a joke to lighten the mood. Most likely the medicine would put her down to sleep again, leaving spaces for more terrible memories to squeeze back to the surface.

Sitting calmly, she let the medicine work its way into her system as she sank down further into the mattress and let her muscles relax. She huffed, eyes pinched shut in focus as she tried to cling to her consciousness. Medicine was something rarely introduced into her body. There was a complete lack of any immunity or tolerance to the pills and powders and liquids.

It eventually overtook her clouded mind, sending her into another multi-hour mini coma. _'Well,'_ she assumed, _'You can't feel pain if you're unconscious.'_

* * *

Roxanne blinked slowly. The last thing she remembered was slipping into unconsciousness from the sun's angry heat trying to dry her out in the sand. She was in a hospital of sorts.

Memories quickly rushed in from the pain radiating from her arm. She reached to rub her sore wrists, completely freezing as the horror settled in.

"What did you do to my arm?!"

All she could do was shriek. The young girl scrambled up in her bed, heaving and huffing as tears spilled down her face. Groping around only revealed an aching stump where her arm had been.

"Where's my sister? Where are my parents?" The shock and anger slowly faded to defeated tears. There was an Amestrian doctor, obviously not happy to be there. She could almost _feel_ that he was the one that lead to her arm being gone. Like there had been a chance to save it, and the man had chosen to ignore it in favor of mutilating an Ishvalan.

"There was a building collapse. Your sister didn't survive the impact," the man practically spat as he spoke, "I can't believe you Ishvalans making a mess of things and expecting us to clean it all up."

The child couldn't formulate a response to the second statement. She was completely adhered to the first one. Absolutely not. Julia was alive in another bed somewhere. Children weren't supposed to die.

 _Bang._

It almost put her in physical pain remembering children she'd seen shot by Amestrian soldiers. As long as they're Ishvalan, children are allowed to die. That seemed to be the only logic Roxanne could find in the situation.

It still felt like her hand was tightly squeezing her sister's. That arm that was no longer there. It felt tense and tight, still holding tight to that little hand with no intentions of ever letting go. It sent cramps up the remaining stump, into her shoulder and neck.

* * *

Once more, Roxanne was awake from a doped-up coma. With a sharp breath, she was upright. That breath was held tightly, her left hand gripping at her right bicep where the automail ended and her flesh began. _"Let go."_

She tried to will the tight muscles to loosen, her entire body a shaking mess in the process. The last time one of these episodes happened was before she had her prosthetic installed. It being connected to her nerves and moving like a real arm allowed her brain to fool itself into believing the real thing was still there.

It being dysfunctional, she couldn't get her muscles to release from the tight bundle they were in. _"Let go. Let go."_ All the sergeant could do was repeat her mantra until the muscles finally relaxed themselves.

Just as she was unwinding and relaxing back into the bed, there was a booming knock on the door frame leading to her room before the mechanic she'd called for shoved his way in. He was definitely a gearhead. A huge toolbox in either hand and a few bare skeletons for automail slung into a bag on his back were evidence of this.

"Let's get a look at that arm!"

At least the man was cheerful.

Roxanne gave a small nod in return, yawning and extending her arm out for inspection.

"This type of model is really uncommon," he explained, pulling out tools and excitedly digging into her arm to find the root of the problem, "Usually, they'll start automail off at the shoulder."

"I refused to have further amputation to regain use of my arm. They told me I'd have issues with movement with it installed like it is, but I haven't had many issues so far."

"Jeez, this is a heavy sucker isn't it? Have you thought about switching to a lighter model? I could definitely do that, but it'll cost a little extra."

"Huh." It had never really come up as an option to her before. A lighter model sound like a dream.

"Here, let me disconnect this one so I can work on it. You've completely wrecked it with years of self-repair. You don't even have to tell me, I can see the transmutation marks."

She was a bit flustered at that remark, her hand moving to grip the handrail as she readied herself for her arm being disconnected. Sharp breath, click, arm was off.

Dull pain radiated up her side as her sense of balance was completely thrown off from the loss of weight. It really _was_ heavier than she thought.

Now was the time to listen to the mechanic rattle off options as her fingers thumbed through the envelope of money, picking through it with a sigh.

Guess those few extra hundred cenz that would've gotten food were going to her arm.

Great.

Propping her head on her arm, she silently watched the mechanic begin his work.


	3. Chapter 3

|Author's note: Sorry for the giant delay. Really, I am. Finals week snuck up on me, and then my vicious perfectionist streak wouldn't let me release the chapter until it met my expectations. The flow of this chapter feels a little choppy to me, but I need to progress and stop trying to fix every tiny piece.

Upload schedule should return to normal. I'm going to attempt to crank out another chapter for the 19th, although it might end up delayed until the 26th. It's approaching finals week once again, so things are a little hectic. Thank you for your patience.|

* * *

"It's amazing!"

Roxanne couldn't help but gush, turning her arm over and over again in complete awe. Initially, she'd been concerned that the new arm would take far too long to make. Thankfully, the internal workings of her arm were still functional and it came down to, essentially, tearing off the steel plates and replacing them.

Additionally, her arm turned out to have been too short compared to her other and was extended ever so slightly in order to match.

Angry at first at the prospect of spending more money, she was overjoyed with the results.

Of course, the nerve reattachment had her in a good deal of pain. But just _look_ at it! Dark, sleek, _sexy_. This was the automail of her dreams.

"That carbon fiber stuff is way lighter than the steel you were using. It's gonna give you a better range of movement and you won't feel so sore around the connector anymore," the mechanic smiled, beaming with pride, "And this time around, when you do self-repairs it shouldn't affect the metal workings inside anymore. But I still suggest coming in for tune-ups instead of doing it yourself."

The Ishvalan was too busy celebrating to pay much mind to his words, her left hand pressed against her shoulder as she swung her automail in circles. That nerve pain was biting into her, but the lack of movement had been killing her for the days she was in the hospital.

Days? Day? She wasn't sure of the passage of time, but she was certain she'd been still for far too long.

A few punches and jabs were thrown at the air, Roxanne still completely in awe at the new arm's light weight and the beautiful texture the material had.

"Don't get into any fights, now," the mechanic let out a laugh. He could see she was awfully energetic for the amount of pain automail users felt when their nerves were connected again. "You're gonna need to rest up for a couple days. Don't go over-exerting yourself."

"Will do! I can't thank you enough for the quick work. How much do I owe you?" There wasn't a thing that could smear the smile off her face at this point.

"I was gonna charge more, but I ended up not needing as many materials as I thought. Why don't we bump it to 50,000 cenz and call it a deal?"

"I'm giving you 55,000."

There wasn't a question or suggestion—he would receive extra payment and take it. She thumbed through her envelope, slipping out the bills and handing them to the mechanic, "I can have you escorted back to the train station if you'd like."

That impulsive extra cenz would leave her with 5,000 left to herself, but she'd live. She could get some cheap food to last until her next pay period. Unless that major she was going to be forced to live with charged her rent for being there. Her face scrunched a bit at the thought.

"I can find my way back to the station on my own. Have fun with that arm. Give me a ring if something's wrong and there's a good chance I can talk you through fixing it on your own."

With her thoughts back on the stranger she was soon to be living with, the mechanic and his entire existence was tuned out. Roy said he would bring that kid by today, didn't he? Or was it tomorrow? Her warped perception of time was getting on her nerves.

Finally, she had full motion again. It hurt like hellfire to move her automail at this point, but she refused to stay still. The phone requested earlier was still at her bedside. The receiver was snatched up and she dialed in the number to get connected to Roy.

As usual, the secretary argued with her for a bit. You would think with the frequency of these calls that the woman wouldn't forget Roxanne had clearance to call Roy, but apparently not.

"Hey, Roy. My arm got upgraded to a new model. It is just _gorgeous._ "

 _"Glad to hear it. So you're feeling better?"_

"Oh I'm hurting like hell, but it's fine. So, was today the day you planned on bringing that kid by? My sense of time is all wacked out so I've got no idea."

 _"I didn't really plan on it today. I wasn't sure when you would be awake and finished with repairs. I could bring him by, though."_

"Yeah, that sounds great. I'm in a pretty good mood right now so it's the best time to meet him. At least I think so."

 _"I'll bring him by around lunch, then. Look decent and not like you've been in a painkiller coma off-and-on for days"_

Roy punctuated his sentence with a small chuckle just to let his subordinate know that he wasn't entirely serious about the remark.

"Right, right. Anyways, have fun napping and not working. I'm gonna get myself some grub and try to stay conscious for 5 hours this time."

With a few more snappy remarks to each other, the call was ended.

"One of you tell a nurse I'd like to eat!" She called out to the guards at her door, content to relax and let the hot pain dissipate from her stump. It wasn't long before a little tray with a meal was brought to her. Eyes practically sparkling, she stared at the practical bounty of food before her.

A steaming bowl of vegetable soup, a little ham and cheese sandwich, an apple, a bottle of milk, and a glass of juice. She was drooling. The sandwich was quickly destroyed, washed down with the soup that she picked up and chugged. She crunched away at her apple, not leaving anything behind but the stem and seeds.

Her beverages finished everything off, leaving her teetering on the edge of a food coma and a painfully full stomach. This was amazing. Her arm was functional again, her stomach was stuffed, and she could wait pleasantly until Roy came with the twerp she had to live with.

* * *

Brush, brush, brush. Roxanne was sitting upright in her bed, legs dangled over the edge as she brushed the knots out of her snowy locks. Roy was set to be here soon, so she was intent on making herself look semi-presentable. Brush, brush, brush.

She took up a fistful of hair, snapping an elastic around it to keep it back in a slightly messy ponytail. The pain in her stump was dulling by now as she ran her hands up and down her wrinkly hospital clothes to possibly smooth them out a bit. Her ensemble was finished as she slipped her shades on, unsure if this kid was going to be as prejudiced against Ishvalans as the rest of the country seemed to be.

The clop of standard issue boots down the hall announced Roy's arrival. Her shoulders rolled back a bit to straighten up her posture as she folded her hands over each other on her lap.

Her eyes met with her superior as he entered, just barely taking in the detail of the accompanying person beside him. That bright blonde and the contrast between black and red eventually drew her eyes in. She silently placed a hand over her mouth as her shoulders went tense.

* * *

"I don't want to play, Edward. Leave me alone! You're supposed to be studying, too!" Little Roxanne whined in frustration, slamming down the pencil in her hand.

"All work and no play-"

"Play with Alphonse!"

"Alphonse wants to study too! I'm surrounded by boring people!"

Young Edward Elric let out a heavy sigh, ending it with a whine of his own, "Fine, I'll go play alone."

The Ishvalan sighed, her trembling hand reclaiming the pencil as she resumed practicing her letters. Before losing her arm, she had just began to understand the basics of handwriting with her _right_ hand. Now she had to relearn with a hand she'd never once written with. Shaky, struggled letters took shape on the paper. She worked her way through the alphabet, slamming her pencil in frustration once more and laying her head on her desk.

"It's impossible! I hate this! I hate it!" She was on the verge of tears. They welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over as little Alphonse approached her.  
"Maybe this will help," he suggested in his normal soft voice, taking the pencil and very lightly writing out the alphabet on the paper, "You can trace my letters instead of doing them on your own."

Sniffling and rubbing her eyes, she brought her head up from the desk to look over the paper. "Th-Thanks, Alphonse…" The smallest smile was forced up on her face as she resumed her practice. The sounds of Izumi dragging Edward inside and arguing with him could be faintly heard as the girl carefully traced her letters.

There was a heavy air of confusion in the room. Neither Edward nor Roy spoke, waiting for the sergeant to explain her odd actions. She was overwhelmed.

All of this sleeping let her mind dredge up everything she was working to repress. Just seeing _him_ made it worse. He was there when she lived with her aunt. Right after everything, everyone…

Nobody in the room really anticipated her to keel over and vomit. Dreams were different than her waking moments. After a dream, she could do everything to force that image out of her mind. Once images of death and destruction came into her waking mind, they refused to leave.

She remained bent over at the waist, arms wrapped tightly around her stomach as she took slow, heavy breaths. Her sunglasses slowly slid down the bridge of her nose before clattering to the floor.

"Sergeant, are you okay?" Roy was forcing up a falsetto of formality, not wanting a weakness in his uncaring front to show to the state alchemist next to him.

"Make him get out!" The volume of her voice managed to startle the two to an extent. She picked up on this, swallow hard before speaking again, "I can't see him right now. I can't. Get him out right this instant."

"What the hell does she _mean_?Colonel, I'm not going to live with some random lunatic, you know," Edward spoke with his usual air of arrogance.

That struck a nerve with the Ishvalan as she bolted up from her seat on the edge of the bed. The two made eye contact, a look of realization crossing Edward's face a half second before Roxanne's hand did the same.

The two men were dumbstruck by her actions.

"Edward Elric, I refuse to believe you've met enough Ishvalans over the years to forget!" Tears dotted her crimson eyes, still shaken and upset from the memories refusing to leave her head.

"I see you got that automail I suggested," the blonde groaned, his hand going to cup his jaw. He didn't realize how lucky he was that she had changed over to a lighter model. "How can you be mad at me for not recognizing when you had glasses on?" The boy was vaguely pouting with that remark.

"Th-That's not the point!" Her face flushed with the slightest bit of embarrassment, "I recognized you on sight!"

"You two have history?" Roy chimed in, quickly silenced by the sergeant with a wave of her hand.

"I can't believe you took Aunt Izumi's teachings and became a state alchemist. Do you have a death wish?" She croaked, both hands firmly gripping the boy's shoulders.

"Does she know you're working for the military? Sounds like you have one too."

"Edward, stop turning questions on me!" She huffed, releasing his shoulders and shoving him back, "I'm trying to understand the circumstances that got us right to this point."

"That sounds like a conversation for another time," the colonel suggested, worried the two would progress to beating the hell out of each other next.

"Roy, stop interrupting me." He was once more silenced by Roxanne snapping and pointing a finger at him.

Edward was amused with the sight of his superior being silenced by a sergeant, "Yeah, _Roy._ "

"You shut it, too!" He flinched back as the authoritative pointing turned to his face. "Okay, Roy. I'll make due and live with Edward as much as I really hate the idea. Start moving my things immediately. I'll finish my recovery at his house. I want to be moved in as soon as possible and start my interrogation."

"Interrogation?"

"Yes, Ed. There's a lot you've got to explain yourself for. For example, if my hunch is correct…" She trailed off, swinging her leg back before giving a firm kick into one of Edward's legs. Honestly, that was a bad way to test her hunch. But she was able to explain herself as she hopped and held her inevitably stubbed toe, "I saw you limping, why do you have automail?"

She reached to snatch his right wrist, confirming her hunch there, too. "Don't think I didn't notice the way your shoulders are tilted to accommodate the weight of that thing. You've got a lot to explain. Now… Get out."

The blonde was taken aback, his usual firey reactions replaced with a compliant nod as he left the room. _'She really takes after Izumi,'_ he thought as he swallowed hard. It took most people he associated with a good while to notice his automail and she had called him out instantly. Those observation skills _have_ to be genetic.

"That was… That was a lot there, wasn't it?" Roy broke the silence that lingered after the boy had left, "Are you okay?"

"Let's sit down and talk," Roxanne's voice was soft as she pulled a chair up to sit. Emotionally, she was drained. Physically, she was sluggish from the medicine. She needed a break. The colonel took his seat, fully intent to hang on every word.

* * *

In her brief moments alone, the child's mind wandered back to her days in Ishval. Her caretakers were gone on a short trip and her assigned babysitter only stayed around to make sure she ate. Otherwise, she was alone with her thoughts that always drug her back to that awful time in her life.

Click, boom.

Boom. Boom.

BOOM.

Rattling bricks.

That limp, lifeless hand wrapped tightly with her fingers.

Thick, rubber, standard issue boots hitting stone.

Clop, clop, clop _clop, cl—_

"Roxanne?"

The child snapped out of her daze to see her aunt had entered the room, uncle and two small figures in tow. "We're back. Did the babysitter take care of you?" Izumi had posed the question but knew fully well that the child was unlikely to give an answer. She was nearly mute.

"Who are they?" the girl's weak voice quivered out. The threat of new, unknown figures obscured by the adult legs in front of them sent her scuttling backwards to the corner, her mattress groaning and creaking with each movement.

"Cool! An Ishvalan!" The source of the rude comment made himself known as a proud, blonde-headed boy shoved his way past the legs barring him from the room. Little Edward Elric. "I thought that all the Ishvalans had died! So cool! I've never seen one in person!" Scientifically-minded as always. It completely flew over the boy's head that statements like he made were considered rude. That it was rude to refer to another race like they were animals at the zoo.

"What happened to your arm, anyways?" the boy questioned, prodding at the stump of the Ishvalan specimen cowering in the corner, "Was that cause of the war?" The adults were preparing to intervene with the boy's invasive questioning before Roxanne solved the issue herself. Her left arm wound back before swinging forward and landing a hit right into the blabbermouth's jaw.

The surprise knocked the older Elric down onto his rear as the younger one squirmed his way into the room to apologize. "I'm so sorry about that! Ed really doesn't think his words through!' Alphonse was sheepish and panicked at the same time, his response simmering down Roxanne's angry reaction.

"Meet your new housemates. Edward and Alphonse Elric. They're here to study under me as their teacher. I wanted to introduce them to you personally so that you three might become friends," Izumi kindly explained as she looked over her niece. She couldn't help but smile. That boy's rude remarks and actions had really lit a fire in the girl. She could see it in those crimson eyes.

* * *

Roxanne had carefully lead Roy through the story. From her removal from Ishval all the way to Roy finding her a spot in the military. His leg was crossed over the opposite knee and his hand cradled his chin, fully invested in these stories he'd never been able to fully hear and understand. Pain pricked at his chest for this poor child he'd taken into his care.

"And now I'm here," the sergeant's tired voice trailed out, "Seeing him again… It brought back so much from the war…" She cradled her head in her hands with a slow, shaky exhale, "There were so many bodies. Blown apart by explosions. Filled with bullets. Burnt black as coal…"

Her hand slid over the plastic-like surface of her automail, fingers trailing up to soothingly rub at the stump aching in loss of its limb. "I was pinned for days. The pain faded as I got too overheated and dehydrated to stay conscious. And then it was just gone. She was gone. Everything's gone. I'm such a weak-minded idiot."

Once more, the colonel let actions speak for words that the two always had issues sharing with each other. He stood and held the Ishvalan tightly to his chest, letting her let out a low whine of protest before she melted into the embrace. It was rare for her to ever reciprocate holds like this, but surely enough, Roy felt two arms coil around him in return.

"You're an idiot," she sighed, just barely peeking up at him.

"Takes one to know one," he smiled in return, moving a hand to pat her head before breaking the contact between them, "I'll have a nurse in here to help you clean up and make sure you didn't bust a stitch again. I need to head back to HQ. Behave yourself."

"No promises," she waved him off as she settled back into her hospital bed. With a heavy sigh, her gaze was fixed upon the ceiling.


	4. Chapter 4

|Author's Note:  
I said I was going to update in a week or so, but inspiration hit hard and I'm already a few chapters ahead. So, in the words of Wheatley, "Surprise! We're doing it now!"|

The car's engine let out a dull roar. The young Ishvalan's head burrowed into her soaked knees as she tried to keep her distance from 'him.' This man in uniform had been giving her food scraps and providing her with warm clothes. It was only now that she decided to trust him.

Rain was beating down so hard it was nearly impossible to see more than a few feet in front of you. Thunder clapped in the sky and the night was cold. And instead of being home, warm in his bed, this man of the state had wandered through the vicious storm in search of her to ensure her safety.

She felt the slightest graze to her shoulder, her entire body tensing up in preparation for a fight before her brain finally caught up. He'd lain his heavy coat over her shaking form, hoping to give some warmth to her frail body. "That's all I can do for now." Mustang gave his explanation with a firm pat to Roxanne's shoulder, "For tonight, you can have my bed and I'll take the couch. You shouldn't be outside with the weather like this."

Her lips parted, a response trying to form but not quite making its way out. She let her legs stretch out into the floorboard, taking the edges of the man's coat in her hands and hugging it tighter around her. "Thank you," she finally peeped out, leaving the rest of their ride in silence.

* * *

The tinkling of rain against the window and the car engine quietening down brought Roxanne back to focus. How long had it been since then?

"Sergeant, we're here," her escort stated, being immediately dismissed with a sharp wave of the hand. Obviously, she wasn't going to be offered any help from this inexperienced underling. The took her final small bag of belongings into her hands, knowing the rest had already been delivered for her, and stepped out into the rain. With a few brisk steps, she was inside.

"Sergeant Roxanne Curtis reporting for guard duty." She _was_ on the clock, anyways. She snapped to attention with a salute, waiting for the blank-faced Edward—half-way through his sandwich, no less—to acknowledge her with a half-hearted, "At ease, Sergeant."

"I really don't care for ranks. It's weird as hell with all the fake formalities, you know?" Ed continued, his point emphasized as he spoke through a mouthful of food. She shook her head at his behavior as she relaxed her stance.

"I'm still on duty, but I'll be unpacking my things in the meantime. My assignment is to guard you, so don't leave the premises without me. Besides, I still have to interrogate you later." She removed her coat and glasses at the doorway, leaving those along with her warning to linger in the room as she headed to the open door with a few of her belongings scattered around it.

The space was a little roomier than she'd anticipated. More space to keep a paranoid eye on. Her belongings weren't much. A lot had been lost. But for now, she was taking a mental inventory.

Five clean and neatly pressed uniforms. One especially spotless and rarely-touched uniform for special occasions. A few select items of street clothing, just enough to get by on her days off. A small set of bottles of scented oils, the one few pleasures she had in her life, courtesy of Roy via a birthday present. A small, charred book of the teachings of Ishvalla with a red lily pressed in the middle.

' _Lillian. I saw the brightest red lily the day before you were born. It stuck with me so deeply that I just had to incorporate it in your name, dear.'_

A locket with 'Curtis' printed in swirling cursive font. She restrained the urge to open it, setting it aside with everything else she cleared from the few boxes she had. A small set of candles and a lighter. Two spare pistols and a few boxes of ammo. That reminded her that she needed to clean the two she was armed with. A hairbrush, some ponytail holders, and other general toiletries were the end of her train of belongings.

It was a thoughtful process as she organized her belongings on and in a small vanity. Guns and ammo in one drawer, oils and candles in another along with the book of the teachings of Ishvalla and the locket. Some of her toiletries were placed in the third and last drawer while others were placed on top. With that, her clothing was hung and the room was completely in order. That sense of organization put her mind at ease, and she could return to the common room with Edward.

She took a seat in front of the coffee table, slipping one gun from its holster and starting her work to clean it. Thoroughly, just as Lieutenant Hawkeye had taught her. "Where's Alphonse?" She questioned softly, her gaze fixed on her current task.

"Oh, well, I'm right here," the familiar voice piped up, pulling her eyes towards it. She was dumbfounded. This hulking, massive suit of armor. _That_ was Alphonse? He was gigantic!

"Great to know that at least _one_ of you grew! You're like a skyscraper, Al! I'm impressed. The armor is a bold statement," a grin crept onto the sergeant's face. Alphonse was always a delight to interact with.

"What's that supposed to mea-"

Edward was quickly cut off by Roxanne's next question, "What led to you becoming a State Alchemist? On that matter, what led to the automail? I expect honesty from you, Edward Elric."

The authority in her voice and her blatant mocking of his height brought a flush to Edward's cheeks as he struggled to put words together. "You know, you're asking an awful lot of questions without giving me a chance to ask any!"  
"Fire away, Major."

"Why are _you_ in the military? What's your deal with Colonel Mustang? Why did he have such a bug up his ass about you living here with us?"

Roxanne took a few moments of thoughtful silence before opening her mouth again, "Those three seem to have a really similar answer. I ran away from Auntie's a few years back. And so I wandered for the longest before eventually Roy stumbled upon me in the streets. He gave me scraps of food and blankets and overall took care of me. He helped me get a spot in the military and I've worked up to here. But I lost my spot in the barracks and I was struggling to keep a permanent living situation, so he's put me here."

Shameless. Open. She was just as the boys remembered. Edward had honestly hoped that she would tell a lie so that he could get away with being dishonest with her. The truth was too difficult to deal with. But she would pick up on any lies he tried to slip out. "Well, you know… It's really hard to explain shortly," he mumbled out, furrowing his brow as he tried to formulate his sentences in his head.

"I've got time to listen. I'll be cleaning these for about 30 more minutes. And speak up."

"Listen, Roxanne! It's a lot. And I really don't feel like having this conversation with you right now. We lived together as kids, so what? I've changed, you've changed, Alphonse has changed. You're awful eager to pull up the past when you're terrified of it."

And then they were in pin-drop silence. "I see. You must've done something awful," the sergeant finally concluded, fully re-assembling one of her guns before working on the other, "That's fine. I won't press it any longer. Thank you for your honesty, Mister State Alchemist. Although, I think you haven't changed as much as you'd like to think."

Her harsh line of questioning had brought some unnecessary tension to the room. Really, she shouldn't have been so direct about it. But she couldn't shake off this sense of victimhood at the hands of the older Elric. He'd forced so many thoughts back into her head that she worked so hard to repress. Sure, she was angry. She wanted him to face the past he was pushing down like she had to. It felt unfair in all honesty.

Although she was usually decently collected, that prickling anger led to her lashing out in this way. Almost like she was launching an assault on Edward's character. Maybe she was. State Alchemist, really? Those weapons of the military, those braggards that wiped out an entire race save for a few. Human fucking weapons wiping out mass numbers in an instant. In a snap of the fingers.

The stench of burnt corpses came to mind once again. It was foul. It wouldn't leave her nostrils for days back in Ishval. Back in that fucking hospital. Surrounded by screaming and groaning and death. A State Alchemist. Two State Alchemists. The people that were tasked on killing off her people were the two people she associated with most.

"You'll have to be sensitive to the fact that you've joined the ranks of the soldiers that killed everybody I knew," she finally spoke after a long while. There was just a hint of venom in her voice, despite her best intentions to avoid it. Her logical side was authoritative, telling her she had no justifiable reason to be angry with Edward. _He_ wasn't involved in the war. It wasn't his fault.

She continued, "I'm trying not to hold it against you. Don't make that any more difficult for me." With that, her weapons cleaning was finished and her guns were back on her hips.

"What, are you using that as the excuse for interrogating me?"

"Well, it _is_ why I did. I wanted context for how you got to this point. I want to have a reason to trust you as a State Alchemist. Like you said, we've all changed."

Her hand went to the bag she'd brought with her, fishing out a bottle of pills and pulling a few out. She didn't bother asking, knowing well enough she could locate the kitchen and a glass of water to gulp them down with. She wouldn't be razor sharp, but sharp enough to defend the shrimpy little hot-head. And out of pain so she didn't randomly decide to start a fist-fight.

Edward was at a loss for words. He remembered her being firey and quick to anger when they were children, but this was different. He couldn't even fully pin-point this as anger. Just… distress. He wasn't much for being soft. But she definitely poked at his heart a bit with those words, those…accusations, maybe. He wasn't a bad person. He knew that, she _should_ know that. What a mess that Colonel Mustang had put in place.

Roxanne returned to the common room once more, returning to her spot on the sofa with one leg crossed over the other. "So, how has life in the city been treating you?" she moved onto a softer topic in attempts to dissipate the tension, "Personally, it's still a bit of a 'culture shock' to me. It rains so much here."

"Yeah, the city _has_ been a change of pace. I miss the quiet of the country sometimes. It always feels like too much is going on here."

"Amen, brother. It feels ice cold here compared to the desert. At least Dublith was decently warm."

Dublith.

Ishvalla above, she really made a mess of things by leaving. She had a home there and the support of the few family members she had left. What had she been thinking?

* * *

"Fine! Leave then, you ungrateful girl!"

"I will, you hag! I can't stand living with _you!_ "

Izumi snatched her niece up by the front of her shirt, pulling the Ishvalan face-to-face with her. "How dare you call me a hag. I took you in, I clothed you, I fed you! You're not even my blood! Your father was your uncle's brother, not mine!"

"I'm _so_ grateful, Miss Alchemist! You're a filthy defiler of the bounty Ishvalla has bestowed upon us! Trying to push your sinful teachings on me, you should be ashamed!" Young Roxanne spat back at her aunt, quaking and balling her fists.

"I'm bored to death of hearing that argument! You were so young, you can't tell me you honestly remember your religious practices!"

Roxanne couldn't refute that point. She _didn't_ remember. But it wasn't a matter of remembering. She'd received a small box of belongings found in the rubble of her home in Ishval, however, that contained a well-worn and lightly charred tome of the teachings of Ishvalla. A red lily pressed in the pages. Her mother's beautiful, swirled handwriting was in the front. _Lumina Curtis._

And with that book, with her intent studying of it, she had formed a fiery hatred of Amestrian society and an even deeper hatred for the use of alchemy. She had developed a full refusal to cooperate with her aunt.

"Ishvalla blessed us with this land and everything in it. Alchemy is a perversion of that natural order and you should be ashamed of yourself!"

"Then _leave._ If I'm such a terrible, terrible person for taking care of you, _leave._ I won't do a single thing to stop you. Hell, I'll help you pack your bags. Let's go. Right now."

Surely, Izumi expected that outburst to lead to the child calming down. And it didn't.

"Fine by me. I can pack my own things."

The house was full of tense silence, save for the sound of clothes rubbing against each other and shuffling into Roxanne's bag. Her aunt didn't take into consideration that the child had been saving up funds. Odd jobs, change left over from runs to the store, it all added up very fast. What Roxanne didn't take into account was that 35,000 cenz wasn't much to live on. Even so, the child packed her things away and slung the bag onto her shoulders.

She'd already purchased a train ticket, which had cut into her savings and left her with the aforementioned 35,000 cenz. Not another word was spoke as she trudged out of the house and towards the train station. Not even a glance over her shoulder.

* * *

"Ugh… I miss the country life…" the sergeant groaned out, a gloved hand covering her face as she did.

The trio had spent likely an hour discussing the differences between city and country life with bits and pieces of the Elric's past squeezing in here and there. There was an attempt to fill her in on details, and Roxanne was undeniably grateful.

The conversation left her heart absolutely aching for contact with her family again. To breathe the fresh air again and listen to the simple sounds of birds and crickets and cicadas back in the country. While Dublith was by no means considered country in comparison to Resembool, she loved it all the same.

She felt a small spark of hope deep down that she would be sent on a mission to Dublith. Or, better yet, Edward would and she would be accompanying as guard. But how would she even go about seeing her aunt again? They left things on such awful terms.

"We're a mess, Elric," she groaned, slouching down in her seat, "Can you just imagine what Izumi would say if we saw her again? I'd consider us lucky if we managed to stay alive."

"I hear that. Why did you leave, anyways? When Alphonse and I were there, she seemed to be really nice to you," Edward posed the question over the rim of a coffee cup before chasing it down with a sip.

"I was reconnecting with my roots," she explained, practically sprawled out on the couch at this point, "The teachings of Ishvalla forbid alchemy. I felt betrayed that she had taught me alchemy and had me performing it regularly when the religion of my family and ancestors forbade it. It was just a lot of anger and I was too stubborn to go back after I left. That's why I got the tattoos, too."

"Tattoos?" Consider the elder Elric's interest piqued. Almost to an, ahem, inappropriate extent. He'd seen her in her hospital clothes and hadn't seen a mark. She was here in uniform, and he couldn't see an inch of inked skin. _Where_ was she tattooed? Just that thought bright the faintest sting of a blush to his face.

"Yeah. I'd read that more traditional Ishvalla followers covered those that committed horrible sins in tattoos in order to ban them from normal society. It felt… justified."

Before Edward could croak out a curious, "where?" the sergeant was already peeling up her shirt. The boys were quickly ready to snap their eyes away and avoid an odd situation. Thankfully to every deity above, she only lifted it a few inches to show inked marks lining the left half of her stomach.

"This symbol here is the alchemic symbol for Earth," she explained, pointing to a triangle with a line through the top, "I thought it would remind me of my Ishvalan roots. The rest are a sort of 'tribal' design, the artist told me. I've added onto it over time as I have the spare money and feel that it's necessary."

The swirls and marks were mesmerizing to look at. It was a shame that the tattoos were born out of a place of guilt. Otherwise, they could really be considered beautiful. But the meaning behind them just… dulled that. It would feel wrong complimenting them in that way. As if to say, 'Your suffering and internal struggle makes a pretty picture.'

"That's… admirable," Edward finally spoke after a while of examining the markings. He could relate to bearing marks of shame. The watch in his pocket engraved with the date he set fire to his childhood home. The metal limbs replacing the ones he'd sacrificed in attempts to commit the ultimate taboo. Alphonse's body. It pained him to see the similarities and acknowledge how much of the brother's story the girl was out of the loop on.

"Really? That's kind of you," the sergeant went to carefully fixing her uniform as it had been before returning to her relaxed posture.

"I think they look really nice," Alphonse finally piped up after a long silence. He was always more timid than his loud-mouthed brother, Roxanne could forgive his tendency to stay silent, "Even if the meaning behind them is sad."

"You're too sweet, Alphonse," she couldn't help but smile. He was sweet enough to make her teeth ache. "I still can't get over how big you've gotten! You're like, a whole toddler taller than me! Here, stand up."

The boy obliged as Roxanne hopped up as well to compare their height. She could just barely reach the helmet of his armor. "Jeez, you're huge," she laughed, giving a playful knock against his chestplate.

It rang hollow.

Her eyes narrowed at the boy, almost accusatory as she gave a firmer knock. Definitely hollow. No doubt. And there was no doubt that both of the boys picked up on the sudden shift in her attitude.

"You two…" she started off, hints of anger in her shaking voice, "Just what have you done?"

"What are you ta—" Edward started only to be harshly interrupted.

"I know what empty armor sounds like, Edward! What exactly have you two done?!"

The air was heavy with tension once more. Alphonse was quivering, the plates of his armor chattering together as he did. Neither of the boys knew where to start. Half-formed sentences continued coming out, Edward struggling to explain themselves. Her anger was laced with underlying concern. What had happened to them? What could she do to help?

* * *

"It's gone! It's gone!"

Young Edward Elric was on the floor, shrieking and grasping at the spurting stump that had once been his left leg. Tears overflowed from his eyes as he took heavy, fast breaths. Their transmutation had failed. Rebounded.

He frantically scanned the room, trying to find his younger brother. His heart dropped and bile crawled up his throat at the sight of his brothers clothes laid out on the floor where he had once been. "Mom! Mom, please…" His eyes wandered to the breathing, wheezing mass in the middle of the room. A distorted shape of a human, struggling to cling to life before spewing blood and collapsing, dead. "No… It wasn't supposed to end up this way… This is wrong…"

"Alphonse! Alphonse, no!" he screamed out, shaking as he pulled his body up onto his hands, only having one knee for balance. Pouring blood, he dragged himself over to the first thing he could think of. A suit of armor which he knocked to the floor, the helmet clattering off.

He smudged this fingers into the blood pouring from his thigh, hastily painting a transmutation circle inside the armor with it.

"Give him back… Give him back…" he weakly repeated his mantra before clapping his hands together for the transmutation. "Take my leg, take my arm, take my heart, take anything! Just give him back… He's my little brother, he's all I have left!"

With that, he bound the soul of his brother to the armor and sacrificed his right arm.

* * *

It was such a tense conversation. Not one of the three moved from the positions they were in. Edward was shamefully avoiding Roxanne's piercing crimson gaze, as was Alphonse. She had the same authoritative air that Izumi had.

She didn't offer up a single word, letting Edward and Alphonse spill their story. For pushing as hard as she did, she owed them the silence to fully express their thoughts. Now they were in silence as she collected her thoughts.

"We really are all a mess, aren't we?" she couldn't help but let out a small laugh, unsure of how else to even begin lightening the mood. "You two have been through so much. I'm sorry, I really am." She wasn't much for physical contact, but she hoped the small gesture of a reassuring hand on each of their shoulders would help.

"Happy now?" Edward nearly spat, "Now you know everything and you can get off my ass about it."

His anger was justifiable, it really was. She'd have to give some form of atonement later on. Until then, she would let some of her own vulnerability slip in return.

"You're right, Edward. I was being a pest about it. I was just worried. I was so worried," she tightened the grip she had on the two, "As briefly as you were in my life, you two were like my siblings at a young age. I've lost so much. You two returning was a blessing from Ishvalla above and I don't know how to deal with you two being so hurt and myself being so powerless to help."

The room was drowning in overflowed emotions. It took a long while for them to shift from their tense positions into something more relaxed. Roxanne sank back to the couch, the boys eased their hunched shoulders, and they were in silence once more, rain still faintly tinkling on the glass.


	5. Chapter 5

| A/N: Oh jeez. Finals caught me and I forgot I had this chapter set up ready to upload. Apologies for being a few days late! |

Thud, thud, thud.

Alphonse perked up, alert from his spot staring out the window.

"Hey, big guy," Roxanne mumbled with a yawn, rubbing her eyes. Her bare feet thudded softly against the floor as she approached him before taking a seat. A black sports bra and shorts were her only attire as she scooted up next to him. "Is this what you do all night?"

He couldn't help but feel a bit embarrassed by her seeming lack of modesty. "What are you doing awake?" he practically squeaked, almost startled as she lay her body against him. From his vantage point, he could see the stitched-up cuts still struggling to heal along her stomach. He could also see that the tattoos extended further up than he'd thought, the highest ones curling near her collarbone and the lowest one seeming to vaguely peek out at the top of her thigh.

"I sleep in brief stints. Usually 3 hours. I do that a couple times a night and maybe once during the day," she explained softly, enjoying the feel of cold metal against her body. The house felt almost smotheringly hot to her.

"That sounds… difficult," the boy muttered as he returned his gaze to the window. Animals wandering at night, the occasional person or car. That was his entertainment.

"I guess it does. I just don't like when I dream… I always think of the worst things when I dream. I avoid it whenever I can."

Right now, this moment, it felt strangely serene. The entire city was quiet as these two watched the night sky. Childhood friends brought apart yet knitted closer together due to tragedy. "You don't have to stay up alone all the time anymore, Al. I'll be sure to come spend time with you every night." It was an earnest offer. It must be downright torture to never be allowed to sleep.

"Oh, thank you… Roxie."

"Roxanne!" she flushed, "Don't call me Roxie anymore, we're grown!" The two shared a laugh, mostly due to Roxanne's embarrassment. It was lovely to have such a light moment following the day's earlier heaviness. They sank into silence once more, her plastic fingers very softly drumming against one of his metal legs.

The two of them never shared many words. Of course, Roxanne was fine with chatting the night away. But that was something she did with Edward. He never knew how to stay quiet. The two of them, however, did. And they could remain in silence for hours, which they gladly did.

Hints of the sun's rise peeked over the horizon as Alphonse dropped his gaze to the now-sleeping Ishvalan laid against him. He wasn't sure when she had dozed off, but he was well aware she needed the sleep. Much like a pet and their owner, he would sooner die on the spot than shift and wake her up. Because of that, his brother would likely sleep in as well. He was Edward's wake-up call, after all.

* * *

Faint blue faded to pinks and purples as the sun climbed up from its rest behind the horizon. With the sun beaming through the window as it was, Roxanne's nap was quick to end. She'd gained maybe another hour and a half of rest before her slow waking. "Jeez, I missed the sunrise," she yawned, stretching her limbs before rising to her feet, "I'll be back. I need to get in uniform."

"See you soon," Alphonse spoke with the hints of a smile hanging onto each word, "And Roxanne…? Thanks for the company."

"No problem, Al. Thank you, too." Casting a smile over her shoulder, she was off to her room. The calm of the morning still lingered with her as she carefully slipped her uniform on. This assignment wouldn't be too awful. Eventually she would get comfortable enough in the position to not constantly be in uniform. Until then, she was sticking with formality.

She examined herself in the mirror. Her hair smoothed and gingerly tucked into her cap, her uniform mostly wrinkle-free, and everything seeming perfectly in place. Exactly how she liked it. Another careful look-over was in order before she went to regain her spot on the sofa once more.

Alphonse was in the process of waking his drowsy brother as Roxanne sank into her sinfully comfortable spot. That comfort was quick to be broken as the brothers' phone began to ring. She readjusted to sit straight and scoop the phone from its cradle.

"To who am I speaking?" She stated firmly. Answering the phone was also on her list of responsibilities with guard duty.

" _Sergeant Brosh reporting to Sergeant Curtis."_

"This is she. Continue."

" _Colonel Mustang gave orders to inform you that the State Alchemist killer, Scar, has been sighted in the area. He also said that you should keep a close watch on your protectee if they go out into public today. Be armed."_

"Is that all, Sergeant?"

" _All that I have to report, yes."_

"Pass a message on to Colonel Mustang for me. Message is as follows: 'No promises, Colonel.' He'll know what it means."

" _Yes, sir! Er, ma'am. I'll be sure to pass it on."_

With some official-sounding parting words, the phone was back in its cradle and Roxanne's hand was glued to her face. _Perfect._ A killer that focused only on killing State Alchemists sighted in the area. Edward's hot-headed nature making him a prime target for _anyone_ to attack him. It would be an utter mess.

The boy was up and tiredly stumbling around the house soon enough, Roxanne giving a salute despite his distaste for unnecessary "proper" behavior. "Major, I've been advised to urge you to stay indoors today. Scar has been sighted in the area, and the Colonel is worried for your safety," she explained to a half-focused Ed.

"I'm not scared of Scar," he huffed out, starting a pot of coffee for himself, "I was planning on going to the library for research today. If I want to take a walk around every corner of the city, there's nothing to stop me."

She shook her head. Stubborn as always. That just meant she'd have to ensure her weapons were loaded before he left the house. "Fine by me," she offered no argument, "But you have to stay close to me. No running off. I'll never hear the end of it from Roy if you get hurt. And, you know, I'd feel awful."

Edward was too tired to protest that, giving a nod as his coffee was finally ready. He scratched at his stomach, barely dressed in a t-shirt and his boxers. He could respect her dedication to orders, but it would eventually become an annoyance. He already had to deal with Alphonse hovering over him and being the angel on his shoulder. Another person in that role would just tire him out.

* * *

Edward likely looked like a big shot as he strolled down the street. Massive Alphonse and Roxanne in full military garb trailing in close to him probably gave off the impression that he was ridiculously important. There wasn't any thought to the fact that would draw more attention to him.

The sergeant was more on edge than normal. They had spent nearly the entire day at the library as Edward absorbed books at a startling rate, and now they were heading home in the dimming light of the afternoon fading to the evening. The uneventful day only formed dread that something awful was bound to happen.

And it did.

She picked up on a shift in the energy of the air. Hairs on her body prickled in alarm just as they would when lightning was bound to strike in a location.

"Halt," she spoke softly, stretching an arm out in front of Edward's chest to stop his movements, "Someone's tailing us."

"You're just paranoid," Edward groaned out, pushing her arm out of the way before the sound of a transmutation occurring rang out in the air. Sparks slashed up the side of a building, diagonally rushing to the top before snapping off a sheet of bricks intent on falling directly on the boy.

Roxanne reacted on instinct, driving her shoulder into Edward and sending him flying on his ass and out of harm's way. "Brother!" Alphonse called, concerned as he rushed to Ed's side to help him back up.

"Fullmetal Alchemist!" Scar's rough voice called out as the dark-skinned man rushed them.

"Roxanne, just get out of here," Edward called as he steadied himself, transmuting a blade onto his automail in preparation for a fight.

Hand-to-hand combat was the first action to take. That was in her training. Don't pull a weapon unless necessary. He was a criminal of the state, but he was better brought in alive than dead. She hadn't learned much of this man. Her only knowledge was that he used a form of destructive alchemy to murder anybody in his way and that she had to dodge his hands at all costs.

She hid a fierce gaze behind her glasses as she readied into a fighting stance. "I'm armed! Turn yourself in and avoid an early death!" she snapped, not flinching as the man closed the distance between them. _'Avoid his hands.'_

She geared up, visibly ready to strike as the gap between then shrank to mere feet. Her eyes stayed locked to the man's hand as it swung in a direct line to her head. Halfway through her easily telegraphed punch, she tucked her arms back in with a quick duck. Sparks from a half-formed transmutation stung at her skin and her hat was knocked away to expose her long, snowy locks.

This was bad. He was quick. He was strong. She was in way over her head. The only thing she had going for her was her speed. He may be fast, her light weight and training left her faster. Dodging that swipe for her head lost her glasses to the concrete, but that was the least of her concerns at the moment.

It was definitely a dirty fighting tactic, but she could be forgiven for punching the groin of a serial killer. It was enough of a shock to him to give her the chance to steady up again. She only had the time for two punches to his head, one landing on his jaw and one hitting a cheekbone. That was all she could do before taking a few small hops back to put space between them.

The Elrics were hesitating. Usually in these situations, they would rapid-fire alchemy-based attacks on this man until they managed to get away. Roxanne being in the middle changed their strategy. Any attack they launched could easily hit her. Kill her if they weren't careful. As she grew closer to them and further from Scar, they found the opening they needed.

Roxanne gulped down at the lump in her throat. This was the most dire situation she'd been in since starting her military career. "Don't get any closer to him," Alphonse warned harshly as the brothers did their thing. Spikes transmuted of stone launching at him, stone pillars crumbling down on him, destroying the bricks beneath his feet, anything to possibly cause damage and keep him at a distance from them.

Guns. She had guns. She'd informed this man of it yet forgotten it herself. She refused to listen to the boys, ready to take action into her own hands. Both handguns were whipped from their holsters as she rushed in from a side that no attacks were flying through. She was going to bring this man down.

Clatter. Clink.

Her blood ran colder than Drachman soil.

The man's sunglasses lay shattered on the ground.

Her fiery crimson eyes met… another set.

White hair. Dark skin. Red eyes.

Her guns were pointed at an Ishvalan.

Every day at the range, every combat exercise, every ounce of training she'd received did nothing to prepare her for one of her brethren at the end of her gun.

Her rush towards the man was quick to halt, her hands shaking and refusing to squeeze the triggers. Ishvalan. Ishvalan.

And he was quick to notice the same, taking no time to completely destroy her for it. "Another Ishvalan, huh? Working to protect the people that destroyed your country, destroyed your people? Have you really turned your back on your heritage?!"

Her mind was static, still in disbelief of the situation. Another Ishvalan. And she was moments from shooting him before she'd noticed. Amestrian. She was an Amestrian because Amestrians kill Ishvalans.

"Roxanne, don't listen to him! Just get back, we can take care of it!" Edward urged, taking extra focus to keep the girl out of the line of fire. He could see how badly her hands were shaking from 20 feet away.

"You're wrong, Scar…"

" _I'm_ wrong? You're supporting the genocide of your people! Who did _you_ lose in the war? You deserve to die just like these damned State Alchemists!"

Scar's attention was fully on her, his next wave of attacks definitely going in her direction. With the slightest indication he was about to attack, her frozen muscles finally kicked back into action.

Pop, pop, pop. Pop, pop.

She fired off shots without aim, only one even managing to graze him.

"Ishvalans are supposed to band together, not fight!" She strained her vocal chords to get the sound out, "Killing State Alchemists solves nothing! Nobody raises from the dead, nobody's homes are rebuilt, you're solving nothing you filthy goddamned sand-dweller!" She blindly fired more shots, her arms quaking. Pure anger was rushing from every pore.

Pop, pop, pop.

"You're calling your own people sand-dwellers! Have you really sunk so low, sister? You're a lost cause!"

"I'd sooner be called a sand-dweller than any brethren of yours, murderer! Murder? Alchemy? You've spat in the face of Ishvalla!"

The boys had put a good deal of distance between themselves and the murderer. They—or more importantly, Alphonse—couldn't bear to run and leave her behind like she was. They knew that they needed to flee. Her assignment was to keep them safe at any cost.

"Alphonse, go," Edward spoke with a harsh whisper as he pushed his brother towards the door of a nearby home, "Call the command center." The younger Elric was hesitant at first. Quickly deciding that he ultimately had to leave his faith in Edward and Roxanne to handle themselves.

Scar wasn't bothered to let the younger Elric sneak off. He had no issue with that poor damned child. These two abominations before him were his prime targets.

"Edward, get the hell out of here! I can handle this on my own! Get to safety immediately!"

"I don't take orders from a sergeant and I'm not leaving you behind!"

Brave words, but he wanted to run. Scar's assault had turned from a physical attack into psychologically whipping the girl in front of him. While this lapse in fighting offered him a great chance to put distance between himself and _a literal murderer,_ his pride was getting the better of him and keeping him glued to the spot.

The three were in a tense silence. Roxanne's jittering arms still held her guns targeted at this man. This Ishvalan. She was contributing to the further destruction of her people. And the man himself was quietly planning out what to do next.

If he charged directly at her, she might be able to get a solid shot in on him. The boy, his alchemic abilities put up a decent challenge. If the boy managed to throw his balance even for a second, the girl could also get a shot in then. His calf was just barely grazed by the one shot that managed to land, and his jacket showed two small holes where two more had almost gotten him. If she was any better of a shot, he'd be in trouble.

' _He's right, you know,'_ her mind practically screamed to her, _'Your mother would be ashamed. Julia would be ashamed.'_ At this point, she was broken out in an icy sweat. Training didn't prepare her for this. She wanted to cry. Cry for her mother to help her, cry for her father to help her, cry for Roy to help her.

It was in this moment of stillness that she was becoming aware of the stinging and tightness in her abdomen. Those goddamned stitches. Nausea was hitting her wave after wave. It only took a momentary lapse in her aim, one arm moving in close to cover her mouth with the sleeve, and he took the chance to strike.

He launched forward, arm outstretched to splatter that head of hers against the concrete. Instinct took over Roxanne's actions, her guns clattering to the ground as her arms shot out to shove his away from her. She fell back onto her bottom, fumbling to retrieve at least one gun as she scurried backwards.

Edward took that as his cue to start another alchemic assault, firing spikes and pillars in the man's direction once more as he charged in to close the distance. Sparks and stone flew back and forth as Roxanne was frozen on the ground once more.

She was in over her head. Shaky hands tried to aim her remaining pistol. Scar was moving too fast for her to keep up. That combined with the debris flying around made it impossible for her to find an opening to fire. Tears were starting to prick the corners of her eyes before relief finally came.

The urgency of the situation hadn't allowed time to scramble together a full team. However, enough Military Police were quickly on the scene separated in the middle by Colonel Mustang and his shadow. "That's enough, Scar," his authoritative voice boomed out.

That murderer's attention was now on the dozen or so armed men blocking off his ways of exit, which Edward took as an opportunity to snatch Roxanne up by the back of her shirt and drag her around the corner to be shielded in the event that the others opened fire.

It wasn't long before gunshots and the sound of transmutations was heard. But she couldn't focus on any of that. Trembling hands snaked up to cover her mouth as she tried to swallow the dryness out of her throat.

 _'Roxanne. Roxanne?'_

Edward's voice didn't even register as being right beside her. It felt so distant as she sank further into her own thoughts. What kind of sergeant was she? Can't even bring herself to fire upon a murderer because his skin's the same color as hers. Just sitting down and crying for mama until someone else saved her. Somebody else was always saving her. Why bother with training?

She had sank down to the ground, arms wrapped around her head as she cried into her knees before Edward's voice broke through to her. "Listen, hey. It's okay. You did your job," he offered those words of comfort. As awkward as they sounded from his mouth, they were sincere. He crouched down, giving her shoulder a firm squeeze as reassurance.

"That was the first time I had to fire at somebody," she choked out, further balling into herself, "I shot an Ishvalan. I shot an Ishvalan! And then I froze!" Her arms no longer hid her face, her elbows dropping as she took tight handfuls of hair. "You or Alphonse could've gotten hurt! My training's done nothing! He got in my head and I let it distract me!"

Edward couldn't find the words to remedy this situation. What could he say? He didn't have the slightest understanding of how it would feel. Surviving the genocide of her race, having another survivor at the end of her gun. He _couldn't_ understand.

The area was quickly secured, officers in pursuit of Scar as Mustang and Hawkeye made their way to the young officers. They already knew what the situation was likely to be, Hawkeye immediately pulling Edward away for a chat elsewhere as Mustang sank to the ground beside Roxanne.

"You didn't know he was Ishvalan, right?" His words were soft-spoken in an attempt to help calm down the emotional turmoil she had to be feeling, "You're not in the wrong for firing at him. He's a criminal, regardless of where he's from. You know that, right?"

"Roy…" Her tone was uneven as she raised her head, her teary eyes meeting his, "I can't tell what I am anymore. I'm not an Ishvalan if I can fire upon my brethren. Not if I've performed alchemy, if I work for this military. I don't deserve that title… And I will never be an Amestrian. For Ishballa's sake, I can't even leave my home, no sunglasses, in uniform and not be attacked! What am I? What do I get to be? I'm a traitor no matter what."

That line of questioning was… difficult. He could recall mentions that her father was an Amestrian. Then by that logic, she was, by nature, both and neither. There was no full acceptance from either side with the choices she'd made up until this point. After struggling with those questions for a moment longer than he should have, Mustang gave her his answer.

"You," he finally spoke, "You are you. Nobody gets to change that. If you're true to yourself, you're a traitor to no one."

"But—"

"Working for the military doesn't make you a traitor to your people. As a matter of fact, there are other Ishvalans in the military. You're not the only one."

"But Roy, really…"

"Roxanne, working in the military is a fit for you. Even when you froze and felt like there was no way in hell you could hurt that guy, you didn't back down and you wanted to protect those brothers. Wondering if you're a good Ishvalan, wondering if you're a good Amestrian, none of that matters. You're you, and you do a damn fine job of it."

"That is the sappiest sack of crap I've ever heard fly out of your mouth, Colonel," she couldn't suppress a small laugh at him. Those words had to be earnest, as cheesy as they were. That was Roy's style of compassion. Formality was out the door long ago, so Roxanne took no issue in throwing her arms around Roy and holding him tight, "You're a fucking idiot."

"Takes one to know one, kid." He sat a hand atop her head, giving a few light pats, "Take it easy, alright? I'll put Edward under direct orders to remain home as much as possible in the next few days until we're certain that Scar has left the city. You take that time to rest. _That's_ an order."

"Yes sir."


	6. Chapter 6

| A/N: I ended up rewriting this entire chapter because I didn't like the first draft. That's why it's late. |

"Mama said we can't play with you guys."

"And _why_ is that?"

"You're not Ishvalans. Mama told us your papa is an Amestrian so you two aren't Ishvalans. Said we can't play with you cause Amestrians are violent and you'll hurt us."

Roxanne's blood absolutely boiled as she wrung her sister's hand in her own. Even at her young age, she could understand what prejudice was. And the complete unfairness of the situation made her want to punch those boys straight in the throat.

Maybe they were right. Maybe she was an Amestrian.

* * *

Roxanne had come to learn in her later years that showers exist as a place of contemplation. Water running down her head and her hands wrapped around the back of her neck, her thoughts remained on the encounter with that Ishvalan man. It had been four days ago at this point.

 _'You're supporting the genocide of your own people!'_

With a sharp exhale, a wave of nausea hit her once more. Scar had successfully gotten into her head and wasn't going to be on his way out for a long time.

He was the age that he could have been a big brother of hers. Had the war never happened and they had met in the sands of Ishval, he would have likely had her respect. He might have even been the type of boy her father always ever-so-jokingly suggested her toddler self to ask on a date.

But the war _did_ happen. The man known as Scar lost the people he loved and would never be the same. Her father was never going to tease her about getting a boyfriend again and her mother was never going to tell him to be quiet. And her sister's smile would never exist again.

Her stomach flipped before she made the conscious effort to focus on cleaning herself. Thinking like this was doing more damage than good. Sadly, that's all she'd been doing since the incident.

She had vented her heart out to Alphonse that silent evening following the incident, her crying face pressed into the back of his armor to hide her shame. Alphonse, in turn, made her surrender her firearm to him out of sheer concern for the mindset she was in. Not a word of this was spoken to Edward, of course.

Even not knowing the full situation, Edward was worried. Roxanne had holed up in her room that entire four days. This shower was her first prolonged time out, although she probably would've continued dodging a shower if she hadn't started feeling sweaty and disgusting.

She twisted the shower knob off, whipping the curtain to the side and grabbing her towel to lazily dry off. Once done with that tedious act, she tossed her towel over her shoulders and retrieved another one to wrap her waist with. With that, she left the bathroom and headed to her bedroom to get dressed.

There wasn't a word from either Elric, both boys very obviously avoiding looking at her as she passed by the communal area. An Ishvalan with a poor sense of modesty passing through their home definitely embarrassed them, but neither boy would bring it up lest they admit they had been looking.

 _'Hey, Roxanne? You walking around with your stomach and breasts out makes me, a guy, uncomfortable.'_ Yeah, that conversation would play out as well as you'd expect.

"Um, Roxanne?" Alphonse spoke, still avoiding looking at her.

She stopped in her doorway, "Yeah?"

"The colonel called while you were in the shower."

She made her way to the table they were sitting at, setting a hand down and leaning into her arm, "What did he say?"

Edward let off an aura of supreme discomfort with the girl so close to him.

"Well, there's been multiple reported sightings of Scar suggesting that he's left the area for good. He gave the OK to leave the house and actually said that we need to meet him in his office today. As soon as possible, he said."

She let out an unenthusiastic groan, remaining at the table a bit longer before slowly thumping off to her room. The lounge clothes she'd laid out on her bed would have to be ignored in favor of her military uniform.

Feeling the faintest touch feminine today, she decided on one of the two variant uniforms the had that included a skirt instead of pants. In the back of her mind, she knew she'd decided on that outfit choice just because it would get a conversation started with Roy.

That man definitely loved perving on the toned legs of military women, which led to him being frustrated when she wore her variant uniform. Roxanne was almost a daughter to him, so obviously no perving would occur on his behalf. But that couldn't be said for the rest of the men in the military.

She looked over herself in the vanity with a frown. Her hair was soaked. Not being a patient one, she went fiddling for one of the new plastic transmutation circle discs for the palm of her automail.

Water alchemy was somewhat amusing to her. Had the Ishvalans not been so stubborn, the employment of this type of alchemy could've helped ease their water shortages. She used her fingernails to pick out the current one and replace it with the new one before clapping her hands together and taking a hold of her locks.

The tingle of alchemic sparks ran along her scalp, in between each strand of hair and outwards. Slowly and gently, she raised the temperature of the water and evaporated it out of her hair. The heat treatment left her locks soft and sleek, which was always a bonus. She brushed and fixed up her hair, tucking it away in her cap as usual and slipping on her shades.

Her hand went to her hip, feeling a bit of disappointment at the empty holsters. She was going to ignore her pride as she walked out to the communal area. She sat her hand on Alphonse's shoulder with a small sigh, "Al, I'm going to need my service firearms back."

The brothers shared a look, Edward out of the loop and obviously a bit frustrated at the fact, Alphonse went to retrieve her firearms from the location he'd hid them in, Roxanne making a point not to look in case he felt the need to re-use the spot at some other time.

"Why does Al have your guns?" Edward huffed after a moment of silence, feeling a bit entitled to the knowledge.

"I—"

"I was worried about her, Brother. She let me keep them put up for my own ease of mind."

She gave a small nod of confirmation, not correcting the less-than-honest parts of Alphonse's statement as she knew it was better that way. She took a seat on the couch, crossing her legs as she picked up the receiver and dialed in a number she seemed to know by memory.

"Private transport requested. Major Elric and Sergeant Curtis as escort. Military family member accompaniment… Yes, charge to the account of Sergeant Curtis. Address is as follows."

The brothers stared in near-bewilderment. They'd always just called a normal taxi. This kinda thing seemed excessive. But…neither of them were going to say anything. The apprehension could be heard in her voice as she sharply barked her commands into the phone. It wasn't hard to figure out that she was terrified of a repeat incident.

"Five minutes til arrival, understood."

The phone clicked back into its cradle. Now for the final bit of prep. Firearms in hand, she went to reloading them. Five minutes was plenty of time to situate her firearms and slip them into their holsters. Before long, their private cab had arrived and Roxanne closely escorted Edward to his seat.

* * *

"You're in a bit of a rush, aren't ya?" Edward griped, longer-legged Roxanne outpacing him by a good deal as her boots clicked on the tile floors of the command center.

"Just walking at a normal pace. Made Roy wait long enough with me being in the shower, so I really _should_ be in more of a rush than I am."

"'Roy,'" Ed snickered with a grin, just trying to match his stride with the two taller figures with him, "That's just so funny to me."

His remark was ignored as they caught an elevator just about to depart. Two privates stood inside, obviously a bit intimidated by Alphonse's bulky figure ducking down to fit in the small space. It was a tad cramped, but the private situated behind Roxanne was making no effort to put space between them.

Yes, this is the downside to the skirt variant of the uniform. Men, regardless of rank, are eager to get touchy and grabby. Fingertips on her thigh were the breaking point as she spoke up in her most authoritative voice.

"Private, I don't know where you believe your hands to be, but they best move before I break them."

"Wha- Who do you think you are?"

"Sergeant Roxanne Curtis. Show some respect, Private, and stay in your lane."

"Well maybe—"

Oh boy. Arguing with her on duty was a massive no-no. She whipped around, nearly nose-to-nose with this poor Amestrian son of a bitch as her automail hand slammed into the wall behind him.

" _Maybe,_ " she began, "You should listen to the orders of a superior and keep your hands off a woman in the workplace, vermin. My wearing of a skirt gives you no permission to lay hands on me and if it happens again I will not hesitate to use physical force. Now, Private, I will repeat myself. _Stay. In. Your. Lane._ "

There was a moment of lingering silence before she clicked her heels and turned back to her normal position. The silence in the elevator carried a deep discomfort, neither the privates nor the Elrics wanting to say anything. There wasn't any other word for it besides uncomfortable.

Harassment of female officers was just something the boys…didn't think about. The only female officers that they really knew were Lieutenant Hawkeye, Private Sheska, and Sergeant Ross. And now Roxanne. They didn't interact with Sheska and Ross much, and Hawkeye seemed like she would shoot anyone that even looked at her oddly.

It was a weird side of the military to be witness to. And oddly shameful that they didn't even know how to react. Roxanne had to defend herself when Edward was the superior officer in the elevator. He was the one with the most pull, and maybe a male authority figure would actually shut them down.

Those thoughts were interrupted by a ding as the elevator doors parted and Roxanne took her usual long strides out.

"Crazy bitch," one of the privates muttered as the doors were closing and the trio were on their way to the colonel's office.

"Umm…" Alphonse trailed off, really wanting to say _something_ , but nothing came to mind. Sorry? Do guys usually do that? Do I need to kick someone's ass? Nothing came out.

"Sergeant Curtis reporting for duty," she nearly barked as they entered Mustang's office.

"Hey Colonel," Edward casually followed up, tossing himself down on a couch as Roxanne stood with her salute before shifting to stand at ease.

"Ed, you really should try to be more like Roxanne. She shows _respect_ to her superiors," Roy laughed a bit, looking over some papers in front of him before tossing a folder across his desk that Roxanne quickly retrieved. "Sergeant, your knowledge of the geography and people makes the southeastern areas of Amestris a point of expertise for you. That combined with your knowledge of alchemy made this assignment a perfect fit."

Oh boy, travel. Fun fun. She let out the smallest groan as she flipped open the folder to give the briefing a read.

"There is a reported ore deposit that may be of great use to the military in the southern area near the border with Aerugo. Little town isn't even on most maps. I assume you'll have no issue finding it. That area tends to have Ishvalan settlements here and there, so having a trusted presence is definitely a bonus."

Indeed, everything he'd said was in the file. Near the border with Aerugo, some small settlement right on the edge of the south and east areas. Train tickets. Stops off at Dublith, South City, and then some other town she'd never heard the name of. From there they were expected to find their way.

That was fine and dandy except for the "Dublith" part. "Is it absolutely mandatory to stop off in Dublith?" she croaked, Edward and Alphonse immediately showing alarm at that statement.

"Sadly," Roy started, "There are new guidelines for treatment of officers that are starting to be put in place. I'm having my arm twisted here. They don't want officers mandated to travel long distances on train without breaks to sleep in proper beds with proper meals. There's nothing I can do. You'll have to spend at least one night in both Dublith and South City on the way there and the way back."

"Ah, well. At my funeral, please be sure to have a traditional Ishvalan ceremony," she sighed, dropping onto the couch beside Edward, "I'm going to have to do a lot of praying to save my eternal soul from Auntie."

The three teens could do nothing but whine and feel glum at the thought of being assaulted by their childhood caregiver. Assault was indeed the proper word for this situation. She would beat them bloody and then some.

"Departure time is this evening. You have 5 hours to pack belongings and get to the train station on time. Good luck, try not to die," Roy muttered with a half-hearted smile. He hoped to lighten the mood for Roxanne's sake. Which is exactly when he noticed… "You should put on a more appropriate uniform for field work, Sergeant."

"Oho?" Roxanne grinned as she'd finally gotten a reaction. She hopped up, stretching a leg out to tease, "Is a skirt not appropriate, Colonel? I thought you liked it when a military woman walked around in a skirt."

"Just go home and pack," he huffed, not wanting to get dragged into that loop of a conversation they always ended up in. You're not a woman, what do you mean I'm not a woman, I didn't mean it like that, what _did_ you mean, and so on. Roxanne couldn't hide her smile as she tugged down the edge of her skirt before giving a parting salute to the Colonel.

* * *

Wave after wave of nausea was slamming into her. Train travel was never fun in general, but this situation made it worse. The sun was up and they were at most half an hour from Dublith at this point. Now was the time for a game plan.  
"I think we need to go to her house immediately," she croaked out.

"Are you insane?" Edward hissed, slapping a hand down onto the small table between their seats, "Do you want to die on sight?"

"Don't you think she'd be a lot angrier if a citizen saw us and told her as opposed to us going to see her immediately?!"

"Well, Brother…" Alphonse muttered, "She _does_ have a point…"

"I'm just not ready. She's gonna clobber us."

The trio were quaking in their seats, eyes on watches to see how much longer they had until their stop. Time seemed to tick down faster and faster.

"Approaching Dublith Station," a voice boomed over loudspeaker.

Shit. Here we go.

Roxanne took a deep breath and forced up confidence, "We're seeing her immediately. Right after we get off this train, we're going to see her. I'll knock first and take the first few angry hits."

"Truly a saint. A noble sacrifice," Edward dragged his coat back on as he spoke, watching the station fast approach as the train's breaks squealed. This is it. This is it.

The train stopped and luggage in hand, the three went bravely towards their childhood mentor's home. No hesitation. No holding back. This is what they have to do.

And yet, her hand trembled as she was holding it up to knock. Ishvala above, she really didn't want to do this. Big talk for a baby. She swallowed hard, squeezing her eyes shut before rapping her fist against… an oddly soft… door?

Her eyes popped open, practically bugging out of her head to see no one else than Sig Curtis. "A-Ah, um, ah… Uncle Siggy, hi…" She struggled out with an uncomfortable smile. The beast of a man's eyes looked down at her, then at the boys behind her, before he turned and hollered into the house.

"Izumi, the kids are here. All three of them."

Plan failed. They were supposed to be the ones to announce their presence to Izumi. Sig stepped out of the doorway, retreating further into the house as Roxanne stood dumbfounded on the doorstep. She was going to be outside soon. And possibly slash probably kill them.

Interrupting that thought was a rubber-soled slipper flinging out of the house and directly into her head, the force and surprise of which was enough to knock her completely flat on her ass. She groaned out, cupping her hands over her thoroughly shoe-slapped nose and remaining flat out on the ground.

Yep, that was Izumi alright. Another shoe went flying for Edward with similar effects. Luckily enough for Alphonse, she was out of shoes as she approached the door.

"You three…" the woman groaned ominously, "You have a lot of explaining to do… Especially you, dog!" An accusatory finger was pointed at Roxanne as she was dusting herself off. She was momentarily confused before sighing at the recollection that she was in uniform.

"I'm not part of the State Alchemist program. I'm just a regular military member."

"Dogs all the same, Roxie. I'm ashamed."

Here

we

go.


	7. Chapter 7

"It's the only option I had—"

"That's bullshit and you know it! You could've stayed here with me."

Roxanne sucked air between her teeth, sweat beading her brow as her hands squeezed each other and she tried to keep a calm composure.

"You were suppressing my culture. I realize I was being irrational now and I'm sorry for it. I've apologized, you haven't apologized."

"I don't have to apologize. You were too young to even remember the religious teachings you grew up with. You were just suddenly angry that alchemy and Amestrians existed."

"I told you, when they brought that box of belongings back from the ruins of Ishval, the book of the teachings of Ishval that had been passed down since my great-great grandmother was in it and I studied it relentlessly. I inadvertently radicalized myself and I'm sorry. I've repented."

"There isn't enough repenting in the world you can do. Working for this unjust military is awful. That goes for you too, you human weapon."

Izumi's spite was now directed at Edward who had spilled the beans rather easily to her. The three were kicked puppies, waiting for the boot to stop coming so they could regain themselves. That was all they really could do. Once Izumi was set on a verbal assault, there was no end in sight until she decided she was done.

With the woman's anger turned to the brothers, Roxanne tuned out in favor of examining her former home. Not much had changed as far as decorating went. Everything seemed more or less the same. She crossed one leg over the other, clapping her hands down onto her knees as she focused in on her thoughts.

It was crazy how much the three of them had changed and how much Dublith and Izumi's home had stayed the same. The boys came back minus two limbs and a body. She came back plus tattoos, scars, and a military rank. And everything here was the same. Even a few small dents remained in the hallway from when she was learning to use her automail and wasn't even aware of the heavy metal thumping into the wall as she walked.

"Are you even listening to me?" Izumi's frustrated voice finally pierced through the haze of her thoughts.

"No," the Ishvalan absently responded.

There was a brief silence before her aunt was up the side of her head with a slipper once more. " _Well,_ " she started with a huff, "If you _had_ been listening, you would know that the boys are leaving very soon."

"Where are they going?" The girl perked up, one hand instinctively patting her hip to assure that her firearms were in place, "I'm assigned as security to Major Elric, I'm going with them."

"You're not. You didn't go with them when you were kids and you aren't now. They're going alone to re-learn the lessons that they seem to have forgotten. You, on the other hand, have to do a lot more than that."

Right. That island trip the boys went on when they were younger. No, not right.

"We're not staying here a month just so you can throw them back on an island to prove a point. We're on the military's dime right now, we're en route to a settlement near the border with Aerugo. We're only staying here one night and then we're on the train to South City."

"You've got a lot of guts talking back to me like that."

"Can we agree on five days, huh?" Edward finally piped up in the midst of the argument.

Roxanne let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Let me get in contact with Roy and see if I can get clearance for that."

"You're such a stickler for protocol, it makes me wanna hurl."

"I don't know how someone as irresponsible as you got to be a major, let alone a state alchemist. Fine, take your five days. If we don't get clearance for it, I'll go to South City _alone_ and carry out the assignment without you."

"But then you'll be abandoning your protectee and breaking protocol, Sergeant~"

"I'll break protocol and kick your ass."

"Oh yeah?"

" _Definitely_ , you little shit."

Just as the two rose to their feet, their mentor stood between them. "That's enough, you two. Five days is plenty agreeable. Roxanne, I expect you to wait here until we've returned. Help your uncle out with whatever he needs. And get out of that damned uniform in my house."

Izumi's intervention didn't do much to simmer down the anger between Edward and Roxanne, her a lot angrier than he was. He was more of an _'I'm going to get in your face and intimidate you into stopping´_ type of angry. She was more of an _'I'm about to peel these gloves off so I don't get your blood on them'_ type of angry.

The sergeant wrapped the strap of her travel bag around her fist, giving one last dirty glare to the blonde alchemist before turning to head off to her childhood room. God, she was boiling. Edward was acting like he didn't have his head screwed on straight. What was wrong with following the rules?

Following the rules set forth by the military was smart. The military has no issue taking you out back and putting one between your eyes if you don't do as they say. Acting like avoidance of that is stupid is just _annoying._ He must have a death wish.

She dropped her bag and sat on the old rickety bed. The same grey sheets were still on it. Probably washed since then. Flopping down with a sigh, she stripped down a couple layers of clothing. It was a good bit warmer down here, so those couple extra layers to stay warm up north were kind of useless here.

The baggy pants and standard issue boots gave away her ranking for the most part, but she could readily ditch her hat and jacket. She dropped the suspenders of her uniform as well. Now her only top was a tight, mock-turtleneck with elbow-length sleeves. At least it was more modest compared to some of the other things she'd wear under her uniform.

Now the time to call up Roy, ugh. Roxanne rubbed her temples as she slowly thudded out into the hallway. She snatched the phone up from its cradle, dialing in the usual number. Same operator giving her the run-around about getting in contact with Roy from a 'non-secure' line. Female sergeants are apparently so few and far between that they have to interrogate you every time you call in.

" _You've barely been gone a day, What could_ _ **possibly**_ _be the issue?"_ Roy let a groan as he picked up. The firm tapping of his fingers on the desk was audible through the phone.

"Sir, we're going to be delayed by roughly five days," she mumbled as she twirled a white lock around her finger, "My hands are completely tied on the situation. Maybe you can get clearance for the delay. Illness as an excuse, possibly. I did eat something on the train that really didn't agree with me… I know you'll figure it out."

" _Really? What did you three get mixed up in?"_

"My _aunt,_ Roy. She's beyond pissed at us. There's some atonement in order and she's not going to let us leave."

" _Not even with a threat?"_ Roy's smirk was nearly audible.

"I could tell her right this moment that what she's doing is illegal and she could be arrested. Then she would proceed to beat my ass left and right to make sure she's done something worth getting arrested over. We've just got to ride this thing out and we'll be sure to book it back double time once we finish up our work in the south area."

" _I'll see what I can do… And Roxanne?"_

"Yeah?"

" _I know things have been rough for you. The south area is pretty safe, so take this as time to relax if you can."_

"Oh, shut up. Relaxing's for wimps. See you next week, Mustang."

With that, their conversation ended and Roxanne unceremoniously slapped the phone down into its holder. Relaxing _was_ for wimps. She had to find something to occupy herself while Edward and Alphonse were on their trip. Great.

* * *

Roxanne had started to occupy herself with small things. Sweeping up in nearby shops, helping pick up rubbish here and there, and wiping down blood for Sig at the butcher shop. It escalated a bit to running deliveries for other shops.

Then trimming lawns. Then helping tend gardens and fields. Watching kids. Cooking meals for older folks that needed the help. Repairing small things here and there. It quickly escalated to her doing anything and everything to keep her out of her aunt's house as long as possible. Anything physically taxing to grind out every bit of frustration and anger that was swelling inside her. She had to take _some_ care with those wounds in her stomach still healing. If she tore more stitches she'd never hear the end of it.

She was a piece of shit. That was all that was on Roxanne's mind when she slowed down to even think. Izumi was a grade-A piece of shit that she shouldn't _have_ to beg for approval. _'Of course, Roy. I'll relax.'_ What a crock.

One arm shielding her eyes from the sun, she chugged away at some water in an attempt to stay hydrated. It wasn't the heat itself that was bothering her. She felt that she was naturally adapted to deal with the heat.

The brightness, though, compared to the city's usual overcast skies, was a little rough. She was so caught up in the fact that sunglasses weren't required to hide her race here that she forgot they'd probably be useful in keeping the sun out of her eyes.

Today was the day. They'd eat dinner here one last time and get to leave in the morning. Thank Ishballa. The sun was on its way down, so it wouldn't be long before the Elric brothers were back. Wouldn't be long before she had to subject herself to her aunt's presence again. She'd had some sort of misguided hope that they could repair the relationship that she'd spat on those few years ago. Obviously, that wouldn't be the case.

The Ishvalan finished off her drink, heaved up to her feet, and finished the last task she'd be doing here. Weeding a field. Simple but frustrating work. Ensuring the whole weed was uprooted was vital. If you didn't take care of it properly, you'd just have the same weed grow back.

Plenty of minutes rolled by before her work was done and she waved off the townsfolk she'd been helping. Dinner time. Awful. But seeing the two brothers again would be nice. It was almost irritating how quickly she'd gotten used to having them around once more.

Approaching the steps of her childhood home, she stopped short to stomp out clods of mud and dirt from her boots. The complaints for tracking mud in the house would be absolutely endless if Roxanne hadn't taken care to prevent it. The silence and stillness of the air let her know that the brothers hadn't returned yet.

With cleanliness on the mind, she quietly retired to her room to ready a uniform for the morning. She dug a small tin from her belongings, some wax or something that Roy had insisted she used to keep her boots shiny. She'd never seen the use for it until now, looking at her nearly pitiful boots.

It was a hell of a time-passer, she'd give it that. Probably half an hour wasted away of her buffing out any rough spots and bringing the footwear to a diamond shine. The passage of time hadn't even occurred to her until she heard the front door fall shut and a newly-familiar armor clanking.

Roxanne felt like a bit of a mess. Sweat and dirt in her hair pulled into a frizzed ponytail and still in the clothes she'd been toiling away in. Although she got over it pretty fast upon the realization that the brothers had been rolling around on an island in the same change of clothes for almost an entire week—or at least Edward was.

Alphonse's armor probably needed a wash. A slight smile quirked up at the thought. She'd help him out with that, she decided. It'd be difficult for him to reach everywhere, anyways.

There was a sliver of anxiety in the air as she went out to meet them in the entryway. What was there to be nervous about? Maybe speaking to her aunt again was the real issue. Oh well. "It took you guys long enough," Roxanne belted out with fake annoyance, stretching to punctuate the silence.

"Sorry, we couldn't exactly swim back," Edward shot back with the same annoyance. Except his may have been real. Despite the possibly real annoyance, the boys seemed to be in better standing. Relaxed, maybe? More in touch with themselves for sure. Roxanne may have felt a touch of envy at the thought.

She wouldn't openly admit it, but being chucked alone on an island for a week sounded fantastic. She might get her head screwed on straight that way. "Welcome back, guys. We're leaving again in the morning, be sure to wash up and rest well," she clapped a hand onto each of their shoulders. She was ignoring Izumi, pretty noticeably in fact.

That had been their level of interaction for this entire week. Visibly ignoring each other. Izumi seemed to be perpetually pissed in Roxanne's eyes, and vice versa. Neither were particularly angry with each other, they were just annoyed with the situation. And that misunderstanding would only coil the tension between them tighter and tighter.

Alphonse smiled—thank Ishballa for those little glowy eyes or she wouldn't have been able to tell—and cupped his hand on top of Roxanne's. Edward, however, pulled away and followed Izumi off to the dining room. Oh, right. Dinner. It was going to be horribly awkward. The girl had spent the week snatching away food and going to her room to eat it. And she couldn't very well do that with the brothers now home.

"It's good to be back," Alphonse released her hand as he spoke, effectively pulling her from her own thoughts for once.

"Yeah, it's good to have you guys back. I thought I was about to go crazy," she removed her hand from his armor, scratching her scalp a bit before reluctantly heading off to the dining room to sit. Roxanne was tuned out for the entire meal. She ate a little, passed salt when asked, but was quick to finish and be gone before any conversation was demanded of her.

She just wanted to get through the rest of the evening and be gone. "I'm showering first," she called out to the Elric still trying to inhale his food. She'd already gathered up a towel and made her way into the bathroom before he could swallow his mouthful of food and protest.

Edward always took too-long showers, anyways. Roxanne's were brief and the little shit would still have warm water to shower with after. Jeez, why was she so angry lately? Nothing seemed to work any of it out of her system. She could only grumble and mutter her frustrations to herself as she stripped down and went to washing off a day's worth of grime.

Oh, Ishvalan hair was such a curse. So easy to see when it hadn't had a good wash in a bit and was caked up with oil and dirt. She practically scrubbed herself to the bone, wanting to look presentable in her uniform tomorrow. Which reminded her, she needed to give her uniforms a good wash before heading out. More work.

She even took a moment to gently rinse her automail down with water. This carbon stuff was nice, and she didn't have to be so paranoid about rust or water damage now. The fingers were showing a little bit of wear, which she hadn't expected so soon. She really should have, considering the heavy lifting and constant use of her hands this week.

It was brief for sure. Barely 6 minutes. And the Ishvalan honestly considered that a long shower. She begrudgingly scooped up another towel. She wished to have a place of her own again. Trotting around naked was just fine but Ishballa _forbid_ poor baby Edward or Alphonse are scarred for life.

Anger, again. Roughly pulling a brush through her hair to get the knots out, Roxanne couldn't suppress a scowl. Maybe she was angry at Roy. He'd arguably been the root cause of her having to stay here. Yeah, she'd give Roy a mouthful when they got back to HQ.

She flopped a towel over her head to dry her hair and wrapped one around her body to go seek out something clean to wear. As irate as she was, those feelings melted away once she was in her room once more. Stacked in the seat of her chair were her cleaned and neatly folded uniforms. That had to be Izumi's doing.

Vague annoyance scraped at the back of her mind, that Izumi wouldn't even have a conversation with her but was doing nice things behind her back. It was almost infuriating. It felt like some smug declaration of _'I'm better than you.'_ Ugh! She cracked her knuckles, contemplating turning this into a fight.

Before she could entertain that train of thought, it was interrupted by a more rational side of her. _'She forgives you,'_ said a soft voice in her mind, _'This is a peace offering.'_ She let out a slow sigh, fingertips grazing the coarse fabric as she argued with herself whether or not to go say anything.

She couldn't. Or wouldn't. The exhaustion of a hard day's work completely cemented her to the spot and lured her to the bed. Settling in for a deep sleep, she made the decision to talk with her aunt before leaving in the morning. Leave nothing unresolved. Pull it out by the root. With a few deep inhales, she was out cold.

* * *

" _You should have died."_

The voice was small. Unfamiliar and yet it felt like she'd known it her entire life. "What…?" Roxanne's words spilled out slowly. Her own words felt unfamiliar as she brought her hand to her lips.

She flinched, startled by the feeling of flesh as opposed to the plastic feel that these fingers are supposed to have. She peered down. No automail in sight. Just a flesh arm, smaller than it should've been. She was a child again, she supposed.

" _You should have died."_

There was the voice again. Seemingly coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. She couldn't see its source. Her only hope was to wander around in this sandy void. Not quite the desert—there was no sky, only blinding white—but not quite some endless dreamscape.

"Where are you?" she called out mindlessly. It felt like everything she did was on autopilot and she didn't very much have a say in it.

" _Right where you left me."_

She continued to wander, eventually catching sight of a collapsed building. It had been the only thing she'd seen aside from pure sand since wandering, it must be where she was supposed to go.

As she approached, her heart dropped into her stomach. A bloody, mangled little thing was squirming on the ground.

" _You_ should have died!" the piercing voice's source was finally located. A head of hair, just the faintest touch of brown giving it a dusty hue.

Tan skin split open with meat and splinters of bone jutting out.

Blood still pooling and soaking the sand.

She felt faint yet couldn't faint. She wasn't allowed to take her eyes off this shambling form. Crooked and broken fingers dragging itself through the sand. She couldn't bear to call the thing "she." It wasn't a human, let alone her sister.

Even so, her gaze was met with sunken red eyes and mouth contorted into a permanent shiek as the thing's head raised up. "You should have died so I didn't have to." The strained voice croaked out as it inched closer and closer, "You left me to die. You leave everybody. You left Mama and Papa to die."

That voice continued raising in volume, louder and louder. It soon ceased to be one voice but thousands, all screaming from every direction until it felt like her ears were bleeding.

She was too preoccupied with her hands covering her ears to notice how close the thing was. Cold, blood-soaked hands with bones jutting in random directions wrapped tight around one of her calves and refused to release. Nails and sharp bits of bone dug into her skin, soaking her ankle with blood.

More hands. She couldn't even see where they came from. Fingers stabbing into her shoulders and shoving her into the sand. Her wrists, her waist, everything was squeezed and pinned as the sand began to swallow her. Fighting was useless as sand had already began pouring into her mouth.

* * *

It was no feat of strength for Izumi to hold the flailing girl down. It had been so long that she'd almost forgotten that this tended to be a normal nightly routine. Until this point, Roxanne had seemed fine. Straddling the girl to keep her pinned and unable to hurt herself, she couldn't begin to wonder what had set this off.

Surely if it was the house, it would've happened before now. Maybe the stress of travelling in the morning. Izumi couldn't help but feel a slight pang of pain in her chest as she looked over at the folded uniforms. As much as she hated the military, she was happy to clean up Roxanne's uniforms for her. The girl was honestly trying to do right by herself.

Izumi couldn't fault her for that. She likely got the hard-headed streak from growing up around her aunt's antics. Maybe cleaning her uniforms like that had done something. There was no telling with her.

It wasn't very long before Roxanne was awake, trembling and gasping and struggling to pry her aunt's hands away. "Shhh," Izumi spoke softly, releasing her niece and trailing her hands up to cup her face and stroke her hair, "You're safe, don't worry."

With that remark, she scooted to release her. Izumi wasn't going to interrupt the girl's recovery routine.

Roxanne lunged up into a seated position, throwing her legs over the side of the bed before hugging her head between her knees. It eased the relentless nausea ever-so-slightly. Deep breathing—Roy had taken time to teach her that at some point—eventually got her to a state of near-calm.

It was short-lived as she threw herself onto her aunt, clinging like a child and sobbing into her shirt. "God, you must hate me," she choked, "I'm the absolute worst." So much pain oozed out in the forms of wailed apologies and more self-deprecation.

No options were available aside from letting the girl cry it out until she'd caught her breath and pulled it together. "Listen," Izumi started once the sniffles seemed to have ended, "I could never hate you. I can be disappointed, I can hate the military you work for, but you're family. I've had the entire town brag and brag and brag to me about how my little military girl has been going around helping. You're a good person and I know that for a fact."

"B-B-But—"

"If you interrupt me again, I'll kick you in the shin," the older woman warned before continuing, "Working for the military has no impact on your goodness. It doesn't make you worse of a person—or better. Your actions do."

Roxanne listened in near-silence, trying to control unsteady breathing and let those words settle in. A good person. Her, a good person. Her, the military dog, a good person. She couldn't even humor the idea.

She was in tears again, back to crying with her face in her aunt's clothes. An absolute mess. Maybe Hawkeye's suggestion of seeking out a shrink would be a good idea at some point. Because a weekly emotional collapse wasn't her idea of fun.

"Something's wrong with me. Why am I even alive?" she groaned through tears, "I'm stupid! I bring everyone down with me… I'm just alive to fuck everything up!" With that last statement, she felt a twitch in her hand. Right, her service weapon.

Nobody needed to know about that.

That she had, at the very least once, sat with metal in her mouth in a moment of serious contemplation. A call from Roy had stopped her. Congratulations on her recent achievements, a few words of soft affection, and plans for dinner together the following day.

It felt pathetic to admit that plans to get dinner was what made her decide to live for another day. But she couldn't have done it then, not when she had plans with Roy. The real postponement was so she wouldn't hurt Roy.

Those thoughts couldn't be focused on much longer as Izumi pulled her out of them. "You're alive for me," she spoke softly, nearly cradling the distraught girl, "I wanted a child of my own so bad I was willing to do anything for it. And you appeared. When all of my hope was destroyed. You weren't always the easiest to raise, but you were my child."

That did nothing but expedite tear production for Roxanne. Izumi's child. The stillborn that she tried to resurrect. The one that stole her internal organs as payment for the sin. To be told she helped ease that pain in any way was too much.

She couldn't blabber out anything else, shaking hands still gripping her aunt's clothes and hiding her face in the fabric. The frustration of this whole week—hell, the frustration of the past few years—all came rushing out in a flood. All of that unnecessary anger and hurt.

Izumi couldn't see any option aside from letting her niece cry it all out. Perhaps she had been a bit too harsh over the years. The girl had always been hard-headed, of course she wasn't going to come back with her tail between her legs once she realized the real world was too scary.

And she was a sergeant now. That took work. Edward had been gifted the rank of major upon becoming a state alchemist—God, she was still pissed about that—so he'd had a head start. Roxanne started out clumsily training in the Military Police and climbed her way up.

Hell, here she was. Layover in Dublith on the way to carry out some official business. As much as she absolutely hated the government _and_ the military, she couldn't deny that her niece had been busting her ass to get to where she was. They would have to agree to disagree to mend this relationship.

After a good twenty minutes of tears and struggled breaths, Roxanne had seemed to calm down. "I'm sorry," were the first words to leave her mouth as she pulled from her aunt and rubbed at her eyes. Her plastic hand did nothing for her tears aside from smudging them around.

"I know I'm a disappointment. I can't stop thinking about the piles and piles of mistakes and everyone I've let down over and over again." She was dry heaving every other word, head going between her knees once more. Izumi's soothing hand ran up and down her back. What was she supposed to say?

This girl had been through enough suffering for multiple lifetimes. Forced to hold the hand of her dead sister until she was finally rescued. Watching the murder of her father. Watching the endless death that comprised that entire "war."

Guilt pitted in the woman's stomach the longer she thought about it. The fight over Roxanne becoming so suddenly and fully religious. It was some desperate attempt to grab onto her dying culture, and Izumi should've seen that more clearly at the time. It was a mess. Their relationship, Roxanne's very existence, everything. Trying to blend two cultures that repelled each other as much as oil in water.

"I'm proud of you," Izumi finally spoke up, "I'm disappointed that you're working for the military. I'm proud of you for how much you've accomplished. I'll say it again and again and again until you can understand it. You're strong. You're kind! Even though you were grumpy and pissed to be here, you've been helping everyone around town so much that I can't walk 10 feet outside without being stopped and listening to people sing your praises."

The Ishvalan slowly raised from the bed, thumping over to her luggage to fish out an elastic to snap her hair back with. She felt like a mess and keeping her hair out of her face helped. "Is it bad that I don't feel like those praises are genuine?" she let out a long sigh, propping herself against the windowsill to look out on the cool night, "Any time I hear pleasant things about me, all I can think is that they mean 'good, _for an Ishvalan.'"_

There was a newfound restlessness as she broke from her spot at the window to pace the room. "I feel like I'm constantly being compared to the evil stereotype of the 'savage' Ishvalan that Amestris built up during the war. Like anything I do is immediately 'good' because I'm not behaving like some belligerent idiot."

"You may be right," Izumi muttered with full honesty. Many Amestrians were still stuck in their old war mindsets about the Ishvalan people. So many—especially in literally anywhere but the East Area—didn't know the slightest thing about Ishvalans. They were peaceful and simple people that didn't want Amestris to invade them and their ways.

Hell, Ishval was even open to let Amestris occupy their lands in an attempt to ease political tensions. That obviously failed. A soldier accidentally shooting a child was the shot that began the Ishvalan Genocide. "Extermination" as the government called it.

"Even if you are, you're still more selfless than many Amestrians I've met. And believe me, I've met a lot." Her last statement held a bit of a teasing tone, hoping to gently nudge her niece out of this pit of despair. Bit by bit.

"I'm going to go for a walk," Roxanne decided impulsively, pulling on some pants but remaining in her loose sleep tank, "I think the cool night air will help me clear my head."

"Be safe," Izumi grunted as she rose to her feet. She wasn't going to argue or tell her 'no.' The girl was an adult. She could very well handle herself at night. With a final pat to the back, Izumi left the room and returned to her own to get a little more sleep.

After giving her limbs a good stretch and groaning softly, she made her way out the front door and into the crisp night. The silence of late nights was useful for gaining clarity. Some of her aunt's words sank in, but much of it was in one ear and out the other. She just _couldn't_ believe much of it. It didn't connect with her. With a harsh sigh, she continued on her path.

 _|A/N: Hey what's up I've been gone for a hot minute. I got dumped around when I posted the last chapter and it put me in a hole as far as writing goes. I felt like Chapter 6 was very choppy and not that great so I wanted Chapter 7 to be better._  
 _Because I wanted it to be better, I constantly sweated over details and think I ended up with another lackluster chapter. But that's okay._

 _From the bottom of my heart, I'm grateful for the comments of encouragement to continue writing. The story isn't dead. I promise I won't drop it suddenly with no warning. I just take time sometimes._

 _I'm risking oversharing here, but I've said before on this account that I do suffer from bipolar disorder. While I'm receiving treatment, it's still common for me to hit ruts where I don't want to do anything. Even writing, which is very fun for me. Here's hoping for a better year of writing next year. I plan to have another chapter out before new years, though. Thank you for your continued support.|_


	8. Chapter 8

They'd been on the train for what felt like years. In reality, it was probably two days at the absolute most. Leaving Dublith was odd. After everything that had gone down, it almost felt like something was incomplete. Those sentiments were shared by all three of them, or at least Edward thought so. They had their little layover near South City before they were bound for their final destination.

He was content to rest, back against Alphonse and feet propped on the wall of the train car. His arms were crossed behind his head and his eyes were shut. By all appearance, asleep. He had a habit of eavesdropping like this from time to time.

Roxanne and his brother had some kind of understanding between each other that he wasn't in on. Listening in on them gave him a chance to understand this bond the two shared. Edward would likely understand a lot more had he been awake to hear Roxanne's absolute meltdown the night before they left Dublith.

Some food wrapper crinkled and Roxanne whispered out a few syllables before digging in.

"Why don't you ever pray over your food in front of Ed?" Alphonse questioned, watching her munch away on a roll.

"He'd make fun of me, you know that," Roxanne muttered through a mouthful, "He'd puff up and tell me how religion is stupid, and I just don't wanna listen to it, you know?"

Alphonse gave an understanding nod, silence returning between the two as she finished up eating.

"He really is sweet when he wants to be," she offered up a compliment as she wiped her clothes of crumbs, "But he really needs to think about other people's feelings sometimes. I know in his head he's doing good. He wants people not to be scared of some divine being that will strike them down for poor behavior. I get it. He just…" Plastic joints clicked as she threw her hand up in some vague motion.

"You're gonna wake him up," Al scolded. Roxanne shifted back into her seat, crossing her arms with a soft huff.

Edward almost felt guilty for listening in as he was. And doubly as guilty that she felt the need to hide a part of herself from him to avoid his admittedly frequent teasing. He'd have to reel that back a bit here and there.

"I didn't really say but it's been bothering me… I heard everything with Teacher the night before we left," the boy continued softly. Even without speaking, Roxanne's frustration was palpable.

"Don't worry about it," she sighed, her gaze breaking from the boy to watch the landscape pass by outside the window, "I was having nightmares of Ishval. It made me really jittery and everything came spilling out at once…"

"That's not _good,_ " the younger brother stressed with a huff of his own, "Everything shouldn't _have_ to come spilling out. You should be talking about things."

"Oh, shut up," the Ishvalan waved him off, "You and Edward have as much trauma as me and you guys don't see a shrink or anything. You never talk about it. I shouldn't have to either."

Well, she had him there. But Alphonse wouldn't take that without a fight. As gentle of a fight as it may be.

"I want to know," he finally spoke up again, "I want to know everything that happened to you. I want to try to understand."

Just when Edward was about to give up the fake sleep act, he was stopped. "Fine, get ready for a long one." He basically _had_ to listen now. He didn't know nearly enough about her past. He knew vague ideas but no legitimate specifics.

"My main 'trauma' is the war." Why she air-quoted 'trauma' was unknown to her. Probably her lack of addressing anything as a real issue. "My parents were executed in front of me," she got straight to the point, "Pops was shielding Mom from the soldier and he didn't care. Went straight to it."

The pointed her fingers into her temple, dropping her thumb like a hammer for emphasis. "Damien and Lumina Curtis. Two of the first few casualties in our settlement. Amestrians thought she somehow 'corrupted' him into marrying her. Ishvalans thought the same about him. And we were the little bastard children—Julia and I."

If Alphonse still had a physical face, it would be paling at the moment. She was so apathetic about the entire ordeal. She was so disconnected from her words that he felt sick. It affected her more than he would have ever realized. Edward had a similar sentiment.

"And then we were hiding. It was a day after our parents were killed. Soldiers were surveying the area and taking count of the dead and we were hiding amongst the buildings. One-hundred-and-six. And then they set an explosive charge and left before detonating the entire settlement."

At this point, her eyes were glazed as she methodically recounted the events that plagued her mind every waking moment and her dreams any time she let herself get reasonable sleep. "'Julia, run,' I told her. 'Run.' But we weren't fast enough. The entire wall of a building collapsed down on us but she was the one who took the most of the impact. My arm was absolutely destroyed underneath it, I could feel every little bone dislocated in my hand and jutting out in the wrong directions."

She flexed the fingers of her automail for emphasis as she continued, "I was told that she died on impact but I think it was a lie to make me feel better. I remember hearing her straining breaths. Only for a minute, then they stopped. 'Si…s. Si…s.' Over and over. And I told her we'd be okay. Someone would find us. But I saw every drop of blood in her body soak the sand beneath us and I knew she was gone. Had I thought just a little harder about how to get to a place of safety, she would still be here."

Tears absently pricked at her eyes, a gloved hand covering her face as she sank into her seat, "She never got to grow up. I didn't get to watch her grow into a woman. Didn't get to see her learn how to write. Make friends, fall in love. I kept crying and asking her to talk to me. And once the heat and dehydration had me pass out, the next thing I remember is waking up in an Ishvalan hospital. Surrounded by the shrieks and cries of the injured and dying while an Amestrian doctor berated me for being alive and told me my arm and sister were gone."

There was a long, tense silence after she'd finished. She really _did_ need to talk about it more often instead of breaking down every other week. Alphonse had provoked it, but couldn't even muster a response. Losing his mother had been traumatic. Trying to resurrect her and failing had been traumatic. Nina had been traumatic. But Roxanne… All of that death at such a young age, it was a wonder how she even functioned.

Nobody could really understand her except for other Ishvalans. Even then, nobody could begin to understand the painful duality of being half-Amestrian. The discrimination she must've faced—he couldn't even imagine.

Edward swallowed down the lump in his throat, forcing up his best fake yawn and stretching out as he moved away from Alphonse. "Oh man, that nap hit the spot," he cracked a smile, sitting up straight and scratching his scalp through his messy braid, "We almost there yet?"

"Sorta. We'll be there in about 6 hours," Roxanne muttered from behind her glove before stealthily wiping tears away and moving her hand, "I'm glad your nap was good. I feel like I need one but I'm supposed to be security for you."

"I think me and Alphonse can handle ourselves if you need a power nap," he elbowed his brother as he spoke, "Right, Al?"

"Oh, right! And if we really _do_ need your help we can just wake you up. You're a really light sleeper, anyways."

Fuck. He was right. She let out a long sigh, rotating in her seat and stretching her legs across it. "Fine," she sighed dramatically, laying a hand over her forehead to add to the act, "Wake me if you need me. Alphonse, if Ed needs me and refuses to wake me up I expect you to." With that, she pulled her cap down and over her eyes to attempt and grab a nap.

It took quite a while with the uncomfortable silence and the occasional bumping of the train. She eventually relaxed and drifted off, gently snoring from the angle she was at.

With that, Alphonse turned to Edward, wagging his finger at him in a scolding manner, "You were awake that whole time, weren't you?"

"Maybe… Listen, it doesn't matter if I was or wasn't. Why the hell are you two so damn close?" Edward retaliated with a poke to Alphonse's chestplate.

"We're close because I'm not as mean as you are. We actually talk instead of you just picking fights with her!" He'd almost raised his voice to an unacceptable level but managed to stop himself. It was annoying to see his brother act _this_ childish about it. He was the older sibling, he should be more mature!

"I'm not _mean,_ " Edward sighed in annoyance, "I mean, it's funny to mess with her sometimes. Like how she's such a stickler for protocol and the rules. She gets so frustrated about it and it's kinda funny."

" _That's mean!"_ The younger brother groaned out in response, "You shouldn't just be trying to make her angry for fun. I know you heard her earlier, do you really think it's okay?"

"Well…"

Ed really couldn't form a valid response to that. It wasn't okay to try to upset her. Especially with all of… that. It _was_ funny to see her get flustered about things. Ack, that sounded exactly like what a grade school boy would do to the girl he liked. It felt gross thinking about it that way.

"It's not," he finally sighed out, running a hand through his blonde locks, "It isn't okay and I should go easier on her." Jeez. Acting 'mature' was tiring to him. Maybe he was a bit entitled.

"Good. She really likes you, as a matter of fact. She just doesn't like the frustration that comes with you."

That was mortifying to hear. That she actually liked him, and was actively suppressing that because she felt like he was _that_ stand-offish. Which, to be fair… he kind of was. He shook his head with a loud sigh, returning to a relaxed position in the seat. He might take a legitimate nap this time.

* * *

"Why not?" the Ishvalan pouted, face flushed as she traced her finger around the rim of an empty glass. She'd just been promoted to Corporal.

"Because," Roy started with a laugh, "You've already drank way too much for a kid. I let you have a few because you've had your nose to the grindstone lately and you need to relax."

"But I want _another,"_ she practically whined, playfully tipping the empty glass over before finishing off the last bits of food on the plate in front of her.

The older man shook his head with a smile. This had been nice. Roxanne had recently been a huge help in a mission in the East Area and he'd gotten a bonus for assigning her to the project. One of her first real field missions. He was as proud as could be.

But lately he'd noticed her withdrawing more. She hadn't been bringing coffee in the mornings like she usually did. Her uniforms weren't as neat as usual. He was concerned. Even when he called her last night to invite her out on this dinner, something was off.

He could hear she'd been crying. A lot. She was struggling to breathe and sniffling every other word. He found it best not to point it out at the time and just force this invitation on her.

"One more cup. Thank you, honey," Roxanne smiled as she passed the empty glass off to the waiter before Roy had a chance to interrupt.

"Seriously," he sighed, "Last one, okay? You'll be sick in the morning if you don't stop."

"That's fine," she spoke with a hum, resting her head on her crossed hands, "So I really did help in the East Area, huh? That's great. I'm glad you could get a kick-back for it."

"Yeah, you did really well. I can't stop telling you how proud I am. I was really worried sending you down there without me around to watch over you." It was a rare moment of pure honesty from Roy. She was essentially his daughter at this point. He was taking care of her and she looked up to him for support and guidance.

As much as he'd been forced into this role, he wasn't going to deny it or reject this child that looked up to him so much. How could he? He was part of the force that wiped her entire race out. If this was enough to even slightly counteract his sins, he would protect her with his life.

Roxanne was content to be sipping away at some dark liquor with her cup returned to her. "This stuff stinks," she sighed out, "I dunno how people drink this all the time."

He stifled down a small laugh at that remark. _'I dunno how people drink this,'_ she said as she continued chugging it down. She was a wreck. Maybe this little wind-down session would help her out. But he definitely wasn't letting her go home as it was.

"Wanna stay the night at my house?" He sipped away at his own drink as he spoke, "You can take the couch or I can take the couch and give you the bed. You really should stay with me in case all this drinking gets you sick."

Giving a lazy nod in agreement, she was quick to finish her drink. "We can go whenever you're done, I'm tired."

' _Of course she's tired,'_ he thought with a small laugh, _'Most adults are ready to check out after that many drinks, too.'_ He finished off his own drink before raising up and walking around the table to help the girl up from her seat and steady her.

Yeah, standing up made all of the alcohol hit her at once. Her legs buckled a bit before she pulled herself together. Together enough to leave, at least. Once outside, the practically collapsed against Roy. "Carry me," she whined, "Carry me, carry me!"

"Are you a little kid now?" he laughed, stopping to kneel down and scoop the girl up onto his back. That would be easier than trying to carry her some other way, to him at least.

"Yes, I'm tired of being all grown-up and military, so I'm a baby now," she laughed, burying her face into his shoulder as she hugged around him to stay steady, "Maaaan… It's been so long since I slept at your house. I kinda miss it."

It had been a good while. That night when she was sniffling in the cold, soaked head to toe from a violent storm. He took her home, gave her his bed, and that was the day he began working to let her build her own life.

"Yeah, it has been a while," he let out a bit of a hum as they made their way to his little hole of a home.

They lingered in silence for a while until Roy took note of hot tears seeping through the fabric of his shirt. Roxanne's breathing had picked up a bit, too. He thought it best to ignore for a few moments longer until they finally reached his home.

He was quick to enter and plop the girl down on the couch before taking a seat beside her. There wasn't even a chance to ask if she was okay before the girl was a sobbing mess hiding in his shirt. "I almost did something bad," she started, choking down tears long enough to speak, "Bad, bad, bad, _really bad._ "

Such an open display of sadness from her wasn't usual for him. She was the type to bottle everything. He couldn't get a word in before she continued on with her spilling. "You called me," she wheezed out, trembling as she burrowed into him, "I had— I was going to— I just…" Her light sobbing escalated to wails, every defensive barrier she'd kept around herself for all this time collapsing in an instant.

She didn't have the stomach to tell him everything. Tell him about those tense few seconds with metal scraping her teeth and her finger lingering by the trigger and his phone call that snapped her out of it. What was she doing?

The night had plenty of black patches in her memory. She had drank much more than intended, much faster than intended, and towards the end it all hit her at once. Whatever followed her fit of crying on Roy, she didn't know. Maybe she'd ask sometime.

* * *

"Wah," she jolted upright in the train seat. The train had bounced a little hard—enough to wake her at least. It was darker now. They were probably approaching their stop. She shook her head, trying to shake the dream out. That felt like so long ago.

Rubbing her eyes with a yawn, she relaxed from her initial panicked awakening. Edward was napping across from her, half-way sprawled onto Alphonse. Cute. The thought of calling them cute brought up a small laugh. She couldn't stifle it, only smiling and trying to cover her mouth.

"Did you sleep well?" Alphonse piped up. Roxanne smiling was a very welcome sight.

"Oh, yeah," her smile lingered as she ran her hands through her hair to pull it down from its clip. When she was uniformed up, her hair was kept in place by a large clip and securely tucked under her cap. But after that nap and stirring around, it needed to be pulled down and fixed up once more.

"We're getting close, huh?" she spoke through the clip clenched between her teeth, handful after handful of hair being gently worked up into a mass.

"Yeah, we should be there really soon, actually."

"We're gonna have fun cramming you in that car to come along with us," she let another laugh escape as she clipped her hair in place and slapped her cap on once more.

Fenief. Small town, near the southern border with Aerugo. Near the edge where the South Area meets the East Area. That was the town this train would stop at. From there, they were to receive a car ride out further into the East Area…into territory startlingly close to the land formerly acknowledged as "Ishval."

Oh, she felt so nauseous. Light-headed. The anxiety of actually being here again had slammed into her at full force.

"Hopefully the car has enough room… I hate taking up so much space," the younger brother was almost pouting as he crossed his arms over his chest. Cute, Roxanne thought again with a slight smile. That boy would really be helpful as a pillar of support if she let him be one.

"I have faith. The real concern is tent space."

"Tents?" The boy was very audibly concerned.

"Yeah, there's not really a hotel out in the desert. They're going to have a camp set up with tents and we'll start out from the morning there."

"You should share a tent with meee~" The sergeant spoke in a sing-song tone as she stretched restlessly in her seat, "Or I can have a tent to myself. I won't share with Ed, though. He talks too much and I'll never get to sleep."

The two shared another laugh. The light mood was nice. It wasn't long before they fell into a comfortable silence, letting it linger until they were finally at their stop.

"Up and at 'em, Major," Roxanne hauled Edward up to his feet by the back of his shirt, "We're at our stop. Get the lead out."

"Uuuugh," the boy groaned, breaking himself free with some light flailing before stumbling after his younger sibling. How very much like Edward to leave the luggage for her to carry. Or maybe he was just too tired to remember he even had luggage.

Either way, she groaned as she pulled two suitcases out to lug off the train. The car situation was about as much of a struggle as was anticipated. Thankfully only one officer had been sent to retrieve them. Had it been two, there wouldn't have been room for Alphonse to take the back seat and Edward and Roxanne to have their awkward arrangement up front.

Awkward for Edward. Roxanne was completely unbothered by the slightly smaller boy perched on her lap. He had refused to have her sit on him, so the next logical arrangement was their current one. He was irritated and embarrassed above all else while she couldn't have cared less.

"Friends do things like this," she comforted him to the best of her abilities, "Sitting on a girl's lap has absolutely no impact on your manliness."

"Says you!" Ed huffed, fidgeting in discomfort.

"You're the one making a deal out of it. You Amestrians are such prudes," she shook her head with a sigh. It was the truth, after all. She couldn't recall the last time she saw a mother breastfeeding in public. Or people changing in the same room as others, with the slight exception of the military. Even then, men and women tended not to change in proximity of each other.

In her mind, the whole thing was ass-backwards. Ishvalans were wiped out because they were so-called savages that required Amestrian intervention to be 'civilized.' What a crock.

"I don't think we're _prudes_ so much as you're weird," the boy groaned, thankful that the ride would be brief in comparison to their train rides.

"I think it's reasonable to want to be able to walk around my living space in the nude. Like, why do you guys wear things when you go swimming? I can understand it in an athletic sense, it makes you get around more efficiently. But when you're just going for a dip for fun, why bother? I've never worn a swimsuit in my life." She was content to prattle on as she watched the endless expanse of open desert pass by the window. Home.

" _That's_ weird! Naked is private, you're supposed to keep that private!"

"Why, though?"

"You're so dense!"

"I think you're just scared~"

Edward had quickly become too flustered over the conversation to even try and continue. He was now nearly-pouting, holding his chin in his hand and impatiently waiting for their ride to end.

It couldn't have ended soon enough. Before the car had even fully parked, he was scrambling out to put as much distance between him and this _thing_ in human skin. She was nuts! His skin was absolutely crawling once he was on his own two feet again and watching this girl casually dust her lap off as she stood from the car.

She was polite enough to tip their driver for the ride before turning to the red-faced boy with the sigh of an exhausted mother. "Listen," she started, hands on her hips to fully complete the scolding, "You're making it a big deal. Just stop thinking about it. If there was enough room for me to sit with Alphonse like that I would've done that too. It's literally just sitting. Take a breath, pull it together. We're about to have to set up tents and prepare for tomorrow."

" _Tents?"_ he groaned, hands pulling at his blonde locks, "We don't get real beds or something?"

"Look the fuck around," Roxanne threw her arms out, "Do you see a building in sight? At all? Where did you _think_ we were staying?"

"Secret underground colony? I don't know! I just thought it wasn't going to be _outside!"_

The brief walk to the campsite was filled with their continued bickering. It was ever so slightly amusing to Alphonse to listen to.

"Do I have to set your tent up for you like a baby?" the sergeant scoffed as she rather rudely snatched away a bundled up tent from a private. Edward seemed to always bring out the shittiest behavior from her.

"I'm just a poor wittle baby boy that needs everything done for me," Edward mocked in return as he grabbed his own bundle. Sweat started to form, however, as he quickly realized he might actually need assistance. He couldn't remember the last time he'd set up a tent.

Roxanne was quickly done with it. She'd set up enough in her days that it was effortless. She laid out a blanket to lay on, and that was that. She stripped away her outer jacket, laying it there as well. It was too warm to be layered up that much. With only her black undershirt, she was off. Effectively abandoning her watch over the boys to have a bit of contemplative time.

The small camp had water jugs, that was good. They replenished their supply somewhat nearby which was even better. They were dwindling down, so of course Roxanne happily offered to fill them. It was just a matter of hauling jugs onto a carrying pole and dealing with the weight and walking.

These other soldiers were so weak to the heat. They were all drenched and miserable. Sweating her ass off, however, was exactly where Roxanne found the most comfort. The sun would be going down soon, anyways, so the heat would die down soon enough.

Ishvala _above_ , this brought back endless memories. Sun on her face, trudging through the sand. The dry air. She took a deep breath. _Home._ She'd stay here forever if she could.

She took her sweet time filling the camp's jugs. She wanted to enjoy the solitude for a little while longer before eventually returning. She had scooped a canteen full for herself, sipping away at it as she wandered back to see Edward still struggling with his tent.

Without even waiting for prompting, she butted in to assist.

"I can do it on my own!" he huffed, almost stomping his foot in frustration.

"I know you can, I just like helping," the girl smiled in response.

That was… very unexpected. It was hard to believe ten minutes walking alone in the desert had mellowed her out so much.

She had the structure up in no time, giving Edward a playful little punch to the shoulder, "Thanks for letting me help."

"You're… welcome?" The blonde genuinely wasn't sure how to react. She always seemed to be such a tight-wound coil that it was weird to see her without that underlying tension.

"Let's eat up and get to bed. We're heading out early."

"Sure."

The lightness of their interactions was completely welcome. Jokes and laughing over their campfire-cooked meal. Roxanne even rested her head on Edward's shoulder after a while, smiling all the way as Edward did his best not to shift around and cause discomfort.

It was oddly nice. He leaned his head against hers after some time, watching the fire crackle away until it had all but burned out.

"I call Alphonse for my tent-mate," the girl grinned as she raised to her feet and stretched. Most of the other soldiers were already settling down to sleep so they needed to catch up on the matter.

"I—That works for me, I guess," Alphonse answered honestly. He was going to be sitting up without sleep all night anyways, it didn't really matter with whom.

"Sure, works for me too," the elder brother chimed in, doing some stretching of his own before retiring to his own tent.

Alphonse would be lying if he said that he didn't feel some slight hint of jealousy at the earlier display of what seemed to be affection. Sharing a tent with Roxanne would be nice to forget that feeling.

The Ishvalan, being as ever-intuitive as her aunt, was quick to pick up on that slight feeling as they were settling in her tent. "I would've rested my head on your shoulder if it weren't so far away," she mumbled with a smile, pulling her hair from its large clip to brush it.

"I didn't—"

"It's okay. Don't worry about explaining to me. You're closer to me than Ed. But you're not getting replaced as my bestest friend, promise." Her smile remained as she finished with her hair and peeled her uniform down to the bare basics.

The night would get cold, so she wouldn't get down as bare as she normally would.

"You really are Teacher's niece, aren't you…" Alphonse groaned, almost irate at having difficulty hiding his feelings from her. She could read him like a book even though he thought he wasn't much for showing body language.

"Yeah, it's a curse," she laughed, stretching a little more before settling onto her bedroll and tucking herself in, "Goodnight, Alphonse. We've got a big day tomorrow."

"Goodnight," the boy mumbled as he settled up on his half of the tent. He really wished he could just sleep. Or feel. Or anything that this body limited him from. He couldn't really tell what the temperature was like besides watching everyone else sweat. It was almost irritating.

Hell, it was irritating. He just wanted to be normal again. Just as he let his shoulders drop to sulk, the half-asleep Roxanne rolled over and reached out to tap her plastic fingers against his knee. Click, click, click, click.

Eyes closed, she smiled softly and let her hand linger there as she drifted to sleep. The assurance of another human's presence always made sleep easier for her, anyways. And just for a bit, it made Alphonse feel a little more human.


	9. Chapter 9

Their trek in the sand was lovely. Roxanne was as happy as could be, feeling liberated by the endless expanse of sand around them. She'd almost forgotten this was work until they came across a small Ishvalan settlement.

She'd known this would happen. The settlement was very close to the mine and they were expected to have made contact and interact.

The people were so visibly apprehensive to the presence of Amestrian military. Clutching babies close, covering heads and keeping them down. It was heartbreaking.

It was showtime. She'd left her hair unclipped this morning and now was the time to slip off her shades. She wasn't the highest ranking member there, but she still gave an order to stand back that every soldier present honored. They were very willing to admit that she understood what she was doing more than them in this situation.

While the military could have easily claimed the mine for themselves without issue, it was important to at least attempt a diplomatic route and get the permission of the Ishvalans in the settlement beforehand. There were some vague attempts to rebuild relations between Ishvalans and Amestrians.

Edward watched on blankly as the sergeant went to sweetly talking to the citizens of the settlement. Her manner of speech had changed a bit from what he was used to. Was she… speaking a different language? He'd never known Ishvalans to have their own language.

But then again… Amestris did a good job of destroying most of Ishvalan culture. Perhaps they really had their own way of speech between them. _That could be dangerous,_ he thought as he watched her gently gain trust of the displaced people.

"Such a sweet girl," a female elder smiled from ear to ear as she clasped one of Roxanne's hands in her own, "Such a good girl. Working to make the military better and protecting your people. A saint."

It was such a change from Scar's berating that it almost brought her to tears. She had almost started to believe she would never be accepted by an Ishvalan again. And it was true to an extent. Some people in the settlement refused to trust her. But it seemed like a majority were on her side, elder included.

The other soldiers simply melted in their skin, dealing with the heat as their stand-in negotiator talked things through with the citizens. They couldn't very much step in and interrupt, that would only dirty up their image more.

After what felt like hours, she'd gently persuaded a majority of the settlement to sign off on a document, which was all they needed to move forward with their day.

"Come back for a meal later," the elder smiled, patting away at Roxanne's hand once more as she was giving her farewells, "I bet it's been a good while since you had some real Ishvalan cooking, hasn't it?"

"It's been a long time, yeah," the girl beamed at the prospect of getting in touch with her roots again, "You wouldn't mind feeding the other soldiers too, would you? I'd hate to just chow down in front of them while they're melting out here. You know how the Amestrians handle the heat…"

There was a shared laugh, an agreement to feed the other soldiers, and they broke contact. "Alright, let's go see that mine," Roxanne spoke confidently, slipping the crisply-folded document to a superior and leading off towards the—well, calling it a mine was a little inaccurate. It was an ore deposit that was likely soon to become a mine, but she supposed it wasn't actually a mine just yet.

Saying she understood the geography had to have been a joke on Roy's part. You can know the geography all you want but it's far too easy to get lost in the endless sand. At least the direction to the deposit was straight-forward enough to avoid them getting lost. This was bound to be a very boring adventure. Identifying rocks, the absolute peak of fun.

* * *

Mineral identification had taken much longer than anticipated. They'd found one deposit. And then another. And another. Alphonse kept getting buried in the fucking sand. It was an entire mess. Multiple water breaks were needed. Paperwork was absolutely miserable to do while drenched in sweat.

By the time everything was done and accounted for, the sun was starting to sink away. It was partially Roxanne's fault that they had been stuck out in the sand for so long.

Edward was the type to rush through with sloppy paperwork—if he did any at all—but Roxanne refused to have anything but the clearest work done. Every accompanying officer was seething in hatred as they boiled in their uniforms while the unbothered Ishvalan filled in blanks and charts and even went as far as a few small sketches.

Her automail was almost articulate enough to successfully write, but with official documents especially, she was sure to use her left to get the best writing she could. With a final loosely detailed map of ore deposit locations and any other locations of interest, the documents received all the necessary signatures and were tucked away by the supervising superior.

Even though Edward was technically this second lieutenant's superior, he was more than content to take absolutely no responsibility on his shoulders. Taking a back seat, letting someone else handle most of the professional heavy lifting? Sounds like a great time.

Roxanne was certain to hold these military men to the loose promise made to eat with the Ishvalans. At the very least Edward and Alphonse. She couldn't do very much for the few privates that decided to break away and head back to their camp. _Hope they find their way back,_ she thought with a sigh.

The Ishvalans had a bonfire going, already a good way into cooking a big dinner. The other soldiers were definitely missing out. Roxanne took a deep inhale. The mix of spices and smoke in the dry air was drowning her in nostalgia. She couldn't believe she'd been so nervous about this trip now.

After the initial interaction and a day of well-behaved members of the military, the townsfolk were much more willing to interact with them. It was so nice to feel welcomed into this group of people just like her. Almost like her, she reminded herself with a twinge of pain in her chest.

"God, you're such a pain," Edward sighed, playfully snatching her cap off as he walked by.

"Why is that?" she rolled her eyes, almost grateful for the cap removal as it gave her a chance to clip her hair up once more. The back of her neck was drenched at that point.

"We could've been done hours ago if you weren't such a pain in the ass over the paperwork," he mumbled, pulling her cap onto his head and flashing a grin after.

"I'm not a State Alchemist, I can't very well get away with ignoring paperwork. I get my ass chewed." She stripped her outer shirt away, tying the long sleeves around her waist. They really needed to make a light version of this uniform. "Besides, I'd like to get promoted one day. Then I'm less likely to get sent out on assignments like this. I heard there's some lady general up north, I'd love to oversee a command center in the East."

She felt at ease for once. Chatting about hopes and aspirations didn't feel like some huge struggle. Edward didn't feel like such a little prick. Things were good! And she made sure to inform Alphonse of the fact with a beaming smile.

It was dream-like how comfortable she felt. With her hair clipped out of her way and a new determination to be useful, she left the Elrics behind to help the citizens set up for their dinner. Cleaning up plates and counting silverware. Setting up chairs and pulling seats near the fire. She even went to fetch water for everyone, accompanied by a younger boy that she chatted the ear off of.

Her genuine desire to help out drove Alphonse to gently peer pressure Edward into helping as well. It wouldn't look very good if they were lazing around with Ishvalans waiting on them hand and foot, if nothing else. Spirits were high as a large pot of stew was being brought to completion.

Roxanne had taken canteens with her to fill with water and distributed them to her fellow officers upon her return. Bowls were quickly being filled and passed around. Everyone found a seat. While the Amestrians were quick to dig in, the Ishvalans paused for a momentary prayer. Roxanne included.

"Ack," Edward had to struggle not to spit out the heaping spoonful he'd taken into his mouth. To seem nice, he forced the food down before letting out a long sigh and fanning his mouth.

"You're such a baby," the sergeant grinned, content to slurp away at her own bowl. She wouldn't have thought he'd have such an intolerant to the Ishvalan use of spices. Which was liberal. Very liberal.

" _Listen,"_ he started with a huff, "You could've warned me that it was going to be _that_ hot."

"You should've been able to figure it out on your own," she shook her head with a sigh. A slight smile remained as the was quick to finish off her bowl. Especially quick in comparison to the reluctant Edward. She sat the bowl on an empty patch of seat beside her before leaning back a bit to relax.

She stretched, mumbled in contentment, and settled down where she sat to enjoy the fire and the remarkably clear evening sky. Neither brother dared to pull her attention away as she enjoyed the splattered palette of a sunset.

It felt like hours that her eyes were on the sky, watching colors shift and fade before her focus was broken by the sound of shattered ceramic. Roxanne was quick to straighten up to attention, eyes scanning around the fire to locate where the source of the noise.

"She just knocked the bowl down," a mother kindly explained, scooping the shards away as her young child sat in the sand sobbing, obviously scared by the loud noise. It should've just been that.

But the edges of Roxanne's vision went soft. It took a few seconds to even register what was happening.

Child in the sand, red eyes full of tears. Shrieking, sobbing. The sting of smoke in her nostrils and her eyes.

The flames whirling and rising ever-higher. Even the blue of her own uniform added to this all-consuming weight of panic. She couldn't remember the last time she felt this cold. This icy feeling extending from her throat to her fingertips to her ankles.

' _Everything's okay,'_ she tried to assure her own mind. But it didn't help. Maybe it could help the nightmares, but it couldn't stop the blood pounding in her ears watching this child that was looking more and more like her late sister.

The only sluggish movement she could get from her body was to bring her quaking hand up to crumple the shirt over her increasingly tight chest.

Tears dotted her glazed eyes.

She couldn't stop the rush of images in her mind. It was suffocating.

Babies ripped from mothers. Houses, towns being burned. Blood-soaked sand. The sensation of all those shattered little hand bones.

The sensation of a seat beneath her didn't exist anymore, and she herself existed within her head as an observer.

Those small wheezing breaths, they weren't her own. They belonged to that little child pinned under rubble with her ribs splintered into her lungs.

Her vision had been slowly wavering and spotting until now, when everything went to black and the last sensation she felt was her head hitting the sand and driving the claw of her clip into her scalp.

* * *

The Ishvalan was half-conscious. She was teetering between awake and asleep before bolting upright in a panic. It was dark. Hands went searching around as endless hard, shallow breaths filled the air.

"You're awake—" Alphonse fumbled to cut a small lantern on to light up the tent, "Sorry—I wanted to make it dark so you could sleep well—I just—"

The boy's nervous stopping and starting calmed her to an extent. He was always nervous in everyday situations but seemed to stern up when there was reason to panic.

"What happened?" She finally cut off his word vomit, looking over her body in almost a trance. She remembered the flashbacks—sort of—and the dinner preceding them, and drew a blank from then onward.

"You fainted," the boy explained, "Everyone's been really worried… Me and Edward didn't say anything."

"Say anything?" She was still dazed. What had there even been to say?

"Brother saw how you reacted when that little girl dropped her bowl and started crying… You froze up and started grabbing at your shirt before you dropped. But we just told everyone you probably got dehydrated… so there wouldn't be any questions about it."

"Thank you," the sergeant mumbled, covering her face with her hand and taking a few moments to fully calm her breathing. She really _had_ lost control of herself. Trying to think of why she'd gotten so worked up only brought images crawling back that she didn't want to see.

At the mention of the dehydration remark, she groped around for her canteen to ease her dry throat. The happy night she'd been hoping and praying for had gone out the window.

"Do you ever… see something? You see it and… you just… you can _not_ stop seeing it as something awful?" She started slowly, head in her hands in distress, "That little girl. I saw in her the face of every dying child I encountered in Ishval. Her crying boomed in my ears with the volume of thousands. Images of my sister and my family, it flooded my head and just—black."

"I've had my moments like that…" The boy's voice held distress of its own, "Any time I see big, fluffy dogs… It's hard to think about."

Roxanne almost laughed. It sounded like some sort of joke he was setting up. But she disregarded that thought as she heard his tone. He was serious.

"This girl… Before Edward got certified as a state alchemist, we stayed with Shou Tucker, th—"

"The Sewing Life Alchemist."

"Yes. And he… he transmuted his daughter and their dog into a chimera… We couldn't do anything to help her… And that man, Scar… He killed her. Her name was Nina. And when I see dogs even close to hers… All I think of is that suffering creature asking when we're going to play again."

"Alphonse…"

What do you say to that? She'd been wallowing in her misery so much that she didn't think about what they might be coping with aside from what she knew. The death of their mother and human transmutation, that was awful enough on its own.

But that—befriending a young girl and watching her own father fuse her into a creature meant to suffer and die—sounded too similar to her own pain to be brushed off.

"Her name was Julia." Lips grazed the plastic hand covering her mouth, "My little sister. I called her Jules when we were kids. Our age difference was a little more than you and Edward, but we were just as close… She hadn't even lost any baby teeth yet."

She took a few more swigs of water before sinking back to her sleeping mat and relaxing. Her relaxing removed some tension from Alphonse's shoulders. It was good that she was resting, she needed to.

"I think about it so much. I don't feel like I ever stop. Why didn't she get to grow up? Why isn't she here with me?" She stretched her prosthetic to the sky, spreading her fingers and listening to the joints click. "Why did I just lose an arm? Why didn't I die too? Or in her place? Why am I here? Why am I so close with people and a system that all but wiped out my people?"

Laying her arms over her face, she struggled down a few sniffles. It was torture. The past and what-ifs and why-nots were going to drown her.

"I wonder it sometimes, too," Alphonse reached a massive hand out to grip one of her arms in reassurance, "Why our transmutation failed. Why I had to lose my body. Why our mother had to die in the first place. I used to think about it so much that it would break me down. But… I slowly stopped thinking about it as much. It doesn't help."

"I know it doesn't help," she nearly scoffed.

"Listen!" The boy pouted, breaking the physical contact to cross his arms, "I know you know. But it helps to be reminded that no matter how hard you try to figure out _why_ things happened, they still happened, and you can't go back to change it."

Roxanne was almost irritated with the response. He was right, but it pissed her off regardless. She wasn't dumb, it was just… hard.

"Scoot over here," she patted the ground close to her with a sigh, "I need to get more sleep before we take off tomorrow and I feel safer with someone else around." She rolled over to face away from him, snuggling under her thin blanket and closing her eyes.

"I make you feel safe?" The awe and pride in the boy's voice was heart-melting.

"Of course, Alphonse. My knight in shining armor."

The two shared a bit of light laughter, eventually sinking to silence and then to sleep. Alphonse, a bit inflated by all of the trust and importance given to him, was sure to stay vigilant through the rest of the night.

* * *

"Sergeant Curtis, sir—er, ma'am, are you in better health today?"

Roxanne was greeted with a salute as she stumbled tiredly from her tent, a half-dressed lumbering cryptid seeking out sustenance. "At ease," she yawned, "I'm in much better health today. I was working so hard yesterday I didn't drink nearly enough and it all caught up to me when I finally sat down to rest."

"Major Elric and his brother told us as much. Good to know you're feeling better. We'll be packing up and leaving once everyone's had time to eat and get some food in their bellies."

"Sounds like a plan. Dismissed," she gave a half-hearted 'shoo' motion to the soldier she didn't care to talk to. Now was time to choke down a roll and drown it with an obscene amount of water. She acted like a starved prisoner, completely uncaring of the soldiers around her watching with mild concern.

If they were so concerned about her health, they'd look past her eating and draining water away like her life depended on it. She was an uncharacteristic mess today. The bits of her uniform she was actually wearing were wrinkled to all hell and back. She put no more effort in than hastily cramming her hair into her cap and slipping her crumpled jacket on.

"Wow, you look like shit," Edward offered up a grin as he stepped out of his tent with a huge stretch.

"Thanks, you too," Roxanne yawned, reflex more than being a smartass. Although if she hadn't been so mentally foggy, she definitely would have come up with it and something even quippier.

Alphonse's tittering laughter could be heard ringing out despite his struggles to keep it in as a look of frustration shot across Ed's formerly smug features. "You really had it coming to you, Brother," he laughed, earning an automail punch in the arm.

* * *

The trip back to Central went by in a blur to Roxanne. She slept on the train ride to Dublith. She slept most of the time there, too, in their room at the inn. She just felt tired. Constantly. She would get up and tail Edward anywhere he went out of her sight. But for the most part, sleep.

The brothers were a little more than concerned with her actions. They wouldn't voice it, at least not yet. A few days of being exhausted following a mission like that could be understandable. Maybe this was normal for her following missions, they couldn't know if it was or not.

So they let her nap as much as she felt like. Even on the train back to Central, she was curled up in her seat, back to them, snoring lightly. She would lightly shift with bumps and jars of the train, but seemed to be sleeping deeper than either of them had ever seen.

Playing poker, making small talk, and doing just about anything they could to pass the time, the brothers did the best they could not to wake her. At least until they had finally reached the station. It was Alphonse's job to wake her, seeing as she seemed much sweeter towards him. Edward had woken her up once and had gotten lazily slapped away.

"Roxie, we're here. Time to get up," the younger brother spoke softly, lightly shaking her by the shoulder.

"Alphonse Elric, I swear to my Creator that I will strike you down if you call me 'Roxie' again. I'm not a little girl anymore," she argued groggily, slurring half her words as she rubbed her eyes and squirmed out of her seat. It took a bit of swaying before the got steady on her feet and went to her duty of hauling luggage. Edward got his own this time.

Once they were off the train, they were met by Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc. A man somewhere in his mid-thirties. Dirty blonde hair, a cigarette ever-present in his lips. Roxanne remembered him fairly well from the few times she'd bummed smokes of off him.

"How's it hanging, Lieutenant," Roxanne yawned once more with a half-hearted salute.

"Pretty good, Sergeant. Heard the mission in the east went over well. Roy ordered me to come pick you kiddos up and bring you to the command center to talk over the mission." The man gave a small wave to the brothers behind her before tucking his hands into his pockets and leading them off to a waiting vehicle.

Edward used every ounce of his might to cram in the back seat with Alphonse and avoid the mortifying lap-sitting situation once more. It entertained Roxanne and Alphonse alike that he was so childish on the matter. "Havoc, can I bum a smoke?"

"You know, you're really too young to pick up a habit like this," he muttered, digging in his pocket for his pack and slipping out a cigarette to pass to the girl, "You better not tell the Colonel about this, he'll have my ass."

"You know I won't," she mumbled around the cancer-stick, borrowing his lighter for a brief moment. She took a long drag, sinking into her seat before sighing the smoke out, "He'd have my ass too."

"You really shouldn't…" Alphonse slowly started before stopping himself as he caught the flash of stern red eyes in the rearview mirror making eye contact with him. Maybe he shouldn't voice his opinion in this case.

The Ishvalan slipped her sunglasses on once the eye contact with Alphonse reminded her of the fact she had to hide her eyes away. "You should just go to the store and pick me up a pack so I don't have to borrow yours all the time. You know I can't buy any on my own without flexing my rank and I'd rather not," she spoke with a brief laugh before returning to polluting her lungs.

"Listen, you're not going to smoke in my living area," Edward spoke up, his voice tense and irate, "I'd sooner let Alphonse have a cat."

"Easy, Fullmetal. I'm not going to buy her cigarettes," Havoc interrupted before an argument broke out. An extremely skilled alchemist and a fairly skilled hand-to-hand trained sergeant having a fight while he was driving was absolutely not ideal.

"I'll get a private to do it for me sometime, probably," she sighed, letting her forehead thunk against the passenger window, "I wouldn't smoke inside anyways. That's stupid."

Edward refused to admit it, but Alphonse could tell fully well that his remark was thinly-veiled concern for Roxanne's well-being. He was worried whether or not he would openly admit it to the Ishvalan in his service.

He wouldn't push the situation anymore. He could only leave the conversation where it was and hope that she was telling him the truth. He let out a loud groan propping his head on his hand and staring out the window. The rest of the car ride was near silent, save for Roxanne and Havoc puffing away on their respective cigarettes.

Roxanne climbed out of the vehicle with a sigh, snubbing her cigarette out on her boot and taking time to pitch it in a bin. She wasn't going to litter them on the ground like her older enabler and many others would. She didn't do this very often. It was the same with drinking. With few exceptions, she never really partook.

This being one of the exceptions.

She gave a sharp if not half-hearted salute to her superior before he drove away to return the car.

The Elrics—Alphonse mostly—were undoubtedly concerned. In their weeks together until this point, they had never seen her so serious. Stern may have been the better word in this situation. Edward was left struggling to keep up with her once more as she wove her way through the busy HQ hallways. Her stride was just too damned long!

"Listen!" Edward snapped, almost out of breath as they reached the elevators and had to wait for one to arrive, "I don't know what you're mad about or whatever it is, but you have to chill out! It's starting to really get on my nerves!"

He couldn't read any feeling in her eyes. The blinding fluorescent lights shone so intensely off of her shades that they were impossible to see through. "Yes sir," she mumbled with a brief sigh, turning away from him to the opening elevator doors. Hiding under a security blanket of formality made it easier to dodge confrontation. What would he do, get pissed off by being correctly referred to as a superior?

The elevator ride was full of fuming, tense silence. An absolute powder keg. The air felt a little less suffocating once they'd reached their floor and stepped out, but not much. As it were, Roxanne letting the door to Roy's office slip through her fingers and thud into Edward's boot was the long-awaited spark.


End file.
